THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


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A  RUN  THROUGH   RUSSIA 


THE  STORY  OF  A  VISIT 


TO 


Count  £olstoi 


BY 


WM.  WILBERFORCE  NEWTON 

AUTHOR   OF 

Priest  and  Man,"  "  Life  of  Dr.  Muhlenbergr,"  "  Summer  Sermons, 
"  Essays  of  To-day,"  etc. 


HARTFORD 

THE   STUDENT    PUBLISHING   CO. 
1894 


COPYRIGHTED  BY 

THE  STUDENT  PUBLISHING  CO. 
1894. 


PREFACE 

MY  thanks  are  due  for  help  in  the  compilation 
of  Tolstoi's  works  and  those  of  the  Russian 
authors  mentioned  in  this  book  to  Mr.  J.  E.  A. 
Smith  of  Pittsfield  and  the  Rev.  Preston  Burr  of 
Tacoma,  Washington. 

I  am  also  greatly  indebted  to  my  young  friend 
the  Rev.  Edwin  Stanley  Welles  for  the  help  and 
interest  he  has  taken  in  the  matter  of  proof-read- 
ing and  in  other  ways  assisting  the  much-em- 
barrassed third  member  in  this  group  known  to 
his  fellow  travellers  as 

THE  RECORDING  ANGEL. 

Pittsfield, 
June  ist,  1894. 


COUNT  TOLSTOI  IN  PEASANT  COSTUME. 


A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA; 


-OR— 


The  Story  of  a  Visit  to  Count  Tolstoi. 


CHAPTER  I. 

FROM    DRESDEN    TO    ST.    PETERSBURG. 

A  HAPPY  thought  in  church-time  is  always,  if  it 
leads  to  practical  results,  a  pre-eminently  happy 
thought.  The  time  and  place  and  environment 
of  feeling  help  to  make  us  emphasize  the  thought 
in  the  days  which  come  afterward,  and  in  this 
way  the  good  resolution  born  upon  a  Sunday 
becomes  a  fruitful  child  during  the  week  which 
follows. 

One  Sunday,  in  the  Russian  church  in  the  city 
of  Dresden,  in  the  winter  of  1889,  the  thought 
came  very  forcibly  into  my  mind  that  the  next 
country  to  be  visited  when  the  true  impulse  of 
the  tourist-fit  came  upon  me,  was  the  myste- 
rious, half-awakened,  half-developed  empire  of 
Russia. 

The    choir   of    men's   voices    in   this    Russian 


2  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

temple  were  chanting  in  their  rich  and  polysyl- 
labic way  one  of  the  endless  liturgies  of  the  Greek 
Church — and  in  some  strange  manner  the  words 
of  the  CIII.  Psalm  seemed  to  resound  through 
these  Russian  cadences — "  As  far  as  the  east  is 
from  the  west,  so  far  hath  he  put  our  transgres- 
sions from  us." 

At  that  very  moment,  while  these  worshippers 
in  the  Greek  Church  were  prostrating  themselves 
at  rhythmic  intervals  and  were  touching  the  floor 
with  their  foreheads,  along  with  the  undertone  of 
chant  and  the  aroma  of  incense,  within  an  easy 
bowshot  the  familiar  worship  of  the  American 
Episcopal  Church  was  being  rendered  by  the 
faithful  clergyman  who  cares  for  the  spiritual 
wants  of  the  American  colony,  the  rector  of  St. 
John's  Church,  Dresden. 

The  chant  in  the  Russian  church,  with  its  oft- 
repeated  refrain,  "  Gospodi  pomilioui,"  found  its 
translated  equivalent  a  few  rods  off  in  the  well- 
known  petition  of  the  Ancient  Litany — used  by 
Anglican  and  American  Church  alike — "  Lord 
have  mercy  upon  us  ; ''  and  in  this  symbolic  act  of 
worship,  the  East  and  the  West  seemed  to  come 
together — that  which  was  oldest  being  repre- 
sented by  the  Greek  service,  and  that  which  was 
newest  in  the  evolution  of  Christianity  being  em- 
phasized by  the  practical  and  vigorous  graft  of 
our  American  religious  life  in  the  English-speak- 
ing colony  in  the  beautiful  capital  of  the  kingdom 


FROM  DRESDEN  TO  ST.  PETERSBURG.          3 

of  Saxony.  Thus,  in  the  very  heart  of  Luther's 
land,  a  clear,  bright,  vivid  spectacle  of  our  Ameri- 
can religious  life  stood  side  by  side  with  the 
Russian  temple,  the  symbol  of  all  that  is  Eastern 
and  Oriental ;  and  thus,  as  the  nearness  of  the 
East  with  the  West  made  itself  manifest  in  that 
spot  where  these  two  religious  worlds  seemed  to 
come  together,  the  happy  thought  took  possession 
of  the  awakened  mind,  to  visit  Russia  for  one's 
self  and  realize  personally  all  that  Dean  Stanley 
has  so  graphically  described  in  his  fascinating 
and  instructive  work,  "  The  History  of  the  East- 
ern Church.'' 

There  was  also  another  motive  which  had  its 
share  in  deciding  the  journey  to  Russia.  A  piece 
of  literary  work  had  just  been  brought  to  a  close, 
and  the  writer  of  the  finished  volume  felt  that  a 
little  outing  was  his  due  reward  for  some  months 
of  steady  labor  in  Dresden.  But  it  is,  after  all,  a 
personality  which  gives  interest  to  a  place — like 
the  memory  of  Robertson  at  Brighton,  or  Arnold  at 
Rugby,  or  Dean  Stanley  at  Westminster,  or  Words- 
worth at  the  Windermere  lake  country.  And  it 
was  the  personality  of  Count  Leo  Tolstoi  which 
seemed  to  hang  over  the  Russian  situation  of  to- 
day, and  to  draw  the  mind  toward  that  far-off 
land  as  the  spot  which  had  evolved  his  interest- 
ing character  and  strange  career.- 

And  i-n  this  way,  as  the  door  of  the  Greek 
Church  closed  and  we  waited  for  our  friends  to 


4  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

come  out  of  St.  John's  Church  that  Sunday,  the 
fixed  determination  took  possession  of  the  writer's 
breast  that  he  would  go  and  see  Count  Tolstoi 
somewhat  after  Stanley's  story  of  "  The  Way  I 
Found  Livingstone." 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Caskey,  rector  of  St.  John's 
Church,  Dresden,  kindly  loaned  the  note-book  of 
his  journey  through  the  Czar's  dominions,  little 
realizing  then,  that  the  mendicant  inquirer  who 
asked  for  his  wisdom  and  experience  would  be 
base  enough  to  purloin  the  title  of  his  diary — 
which  base  act  the  writer  acknowledges  most 
humbly,  and  makes  the  present  thorough  confes- 
sion in  the  opening  chapter  of  these  articles — "  A 
Run  Through  Russia." 

A  happy  thought  plus  another  happy  thought  is 
always  the  sequence  which  leads  to  pleasure  and 
profit  and  ultimate  success.  The  second  happy 
thought  in  this  series  was  to  go  and  talk  to  the 
Russian  priest  in  Dresden  about  this  proposed 
journey. 

But  the  priest  was  not  at  home,  and  though  his 
interesting  young  wife,  who  spoke  English  re- 
markably well,  did  her  best  to  supply  her  hus- 
band's place,  it  was  thought  best  to  appoint  a 
time  when  we  could  talk  the  matter  over  in  all  its 
bearings.  Accordingly,  the  Greek  priest,  a  typi- 
cal Russian  of  the  fair-haired,  blonde  type,  came 
to  the  hotel  where  our  party  was  staying,  and  to- 
gether we  held  a  polyglot  interview  which  lasted 


FROM  DRESDEN  TO  ST.  PETERSBURG  5 

a  couple  of  hours,  in  which  the  German,  French, 
Latin  and  Greek  languages  were  used  with  an 
easy  eclecticism  which  defied  all  conventional 
rules  and  usages. 

This  patchwork  counterpane  of  conversation 
was  very  successful,  however,  in  its  practical 
results,  for  my  friend,  the  Russian  priest,  was 
affable,  helpful  and  agreeable,  though  it  became 
quite  evident  that  he  was  more  anxious  that  we 
should  rightly  understand  the  character  of  the 
Greek  Church  than  that  we  should  see  Tolstoi, 
who,  as  the  shrug  of  the  shoulder  indicated,  was 
considered  a  good  deal  of  a  heretic  in  the  eyes 
of  the  orthodox  people  of  Russia,  of  whom  this 
priest  was  a  fair  representative. 

Through  his  kindness,  an  interview  was  ob- 
tained with  a  certain  Countess  in  Dresden,  a  sis- 
ter of  the  Countess  who  is  a  lady-in-waiting  to 
the  Grand  Duchess  Constantine  in  the  Marble 
Palace  in  St.  Petersburg.  This  lady  was  most 
kind  and  sympathetic,  and  entered  heartily  into 
the  plan  of  helping  us  to  find  Tolstoi.  She  very 
kindly  sent  letters  in  advance  to  her  friends  and 
relatives  in  St.  Petersburg  and  to  the  Countess 
Alexandrine  Tolstoi,  who  is  a  lady-in-waiting  in 
the  Winter  Palace  to  the  Empress. 

In  due  time  word  came  back  from  St.  Peters- 
burg to  send  on  the  American  pilgrims  to  the 
shrine  of  Tolstoi  without  further  delay  ;  that  they 
would  be  well  received  and  would  be  forwarded 


6  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

to  Moscow  or  to  Tula  if  Court  Tolstoi  should  be 
at  his  home  in  either  of  these  places. 

The  next  step  was  to  make  sure  that  our  pass- 
ports were  vised  properly,  for  Russia  is  most 
carefully  guarded  to-day,  and  ever  since  Mr. 
George  Kennan's  visit  to  Siberia,  the  American 
tourist  is  looked  upon  with  the  eagle  eye  of  the 
Russian  detective. 

The  Russian  charge  in  Dresden  shook  his  head 
over  the  passports  of  two  of  the  party;  for,  alas  ; 
they  were  "geistlicher"  "  clergymen  " — and  clergy- 
men to-day  are  looked  upon  with  suspicion  by  the 
all-powerful  Pobedonestzeff,  the  celebrated  pro- 
cureur  of  the  Holy  Synod.  But  a  kind  letter 
from  the  Countess  and  a  telegram  to  St.  Peters- 
burg set  the  matter  straight,  and  a  precious  little 
bit  of  extra  parchment  riveted  onto  the  original 
passport  made  everything  right  for  us  ;  and  thus, 
with  our  characters  given  to  us  in  writing,  we 
heeded  the  advice  of  St.  Paul  to  his  companion 
Timothy  : 

"  The  cloak  that  I  left,  bring  with  thee  when 
thou  comest,  and  the  books,  but  especially  the  parch- 
ment" 

And  here  we  may  as  well  introduce  the  party 
who  were  setting  out  on  this  "  Run  Through 
Russia"  and  were  about  to  enter  upon  their 
search  after  Tolstoi. 

Two  of  the  party  were  clergymen  and  the  other 
was  a  wise  layman  of  the  "Judicious  Hooker" 


FROM  DRESDEN  TO  ST.  PETERSBURG.          *J 

type  of  mind — and  together  they  formed  the  most 
agreeable  companions  it  was  ever  the  lot  of  a  sol- 
itary traveller  to  find. 

It  does  not  do  in  books,  as  it  is  not  good  man- 
ners in  sermons,  to  mention  names,  or  to  be  too 
personal  in  one's  description;  suffice  it  then  to 
say,  that  one  of  these  gentlemen,  owing  to  his 
marked  resemblance  to  the  celebrated  English 
novelist,  shall  be  known  as  "  Mr.  Thackeray," 
while  the  other,  because  of  his  resemblance  to  the 
illustrious  poet,  will  henceforth  bear  the  proud 
title  of  "  Lord  Byron." 

Mr.  Thackeray  and  Lord  Byron  had  warmed 
themselves  to  the  work  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  the 
difficulties  to  be  overcome  and  in  a  sort  of  geo- 
metrical progression  from  the  kind  patronage  of 
the  nobility  at  St.  Petersburg.  Together  this 
trio  of  pilgrims  went  to  that  busy  bee-hive  of 
American  tourists,  Thode  &  Co.,  Bankers,  Dres- 
den, where  we  received  our  money  which  had  been 
exchanged  into  roubles  and  copecks  and  where  our 
obliging  young  friend,  Mr.  Hans  Bjorn  Graesse, 
arranged  our  letters  of  credit  for  us  and  gave  us 
the  necessary  handsome  brown  rouble  notes  of 
the  Russian  Empire,  bearing  on  them  the  dashing 
portrait  of  the  Empress  Catherine  the  Second. 

The  ride  from  Dresden  to  Berlin  is  uneventful, 
and  Berlin  itself  is  too  markedly  one  of  the  five 
or  six  great  cities  of  the  world  to  bear  other  than 
a  merely  passing  description. 


8  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

The  only  circumstance  of  interest  which  hap- 
pened on  this  visit  to  Berlin  was  the  fact  that, 
while  Lord  Byron  and  Mr.  Thackeray  were  busy 
with  some  money-changers  of  Jewish  extraction, 
the  other  member  of  the  party,  who  was  standing 
on  the  curbstone  patiently  waiting  for  his  com- 
panions to  return,  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  face 
to  face  the  celebrated  Prince  Bismarck  as  he 
drove  along  the  Unter  den  Linden  on  his  way  to 
the  Emperor's  palace,  and  was  more  impressed 
than  ever  with  the  strong  resemblance  he  bore  to 
that  well-known  Berkshire  manufacturer,  the  late 
Hon.  Zenas  Marshall  Crane  of  Dalton,  who  for 
years  before  had  been  spoken  of  as  the  Berkshire 
Bismarck  by  his  many  admiring  friends. 

At  11:09  o'clock  that  night,  April  2,  1889,  the 
train  came  along  that  was  to  take  this  party  to 
St.  Petersburg  ;  so  the  three  tourists  took  their 
places  in  the  sleeping-car,  which  places  had  been 
telegraphed  for  in  advance.  The  sleeping-cars  in 
Europe  are  very  luxurious,  built  as  they  are  upon 
the  European  plan  of  providing  an  extra  dressing- 
room  for  each  two  compartments.  A  very  com- 
fortable night  was  passed  and  the  next  morning 
found  us  bowling  our  way  very  smoothly  and 
evenly  across  that  long  stretch  of  country  known 
as  Northeastern  Germany,  where  once  a  portion 
of  the  ill-starred  kingdom  of  Poland  had  been. 

About  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  while  Mr. 
Thackeray  was  absorbed  in  a  deep  and  profound 


FROM  DRESDEN  TO  ST.  PETERSBURG-          9 

study  of  the  Russian  language  with  its  complex 
alphabet  of  thirty-eight  letters,  the  invention  of 
the  Monk  Cyrenius  of  the  ninth  century,  Lord 
Byron  exclaimed,  "  I  wish  we  could  see  some- 
thing which  is  distinctively  Russian — I  am  tired 
with  this  familiar  German  scenery." 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  of  the  mouth  of 
our  poetical  friend  before  the  train  passed  over 
the  little  bridge  of  stone  spanning  the  brook 
which  divides  Russia  from  Germany,  and  having 
left  Eydt  Kuhnen,  the  last  stopping-place  on  the 
German  line,  we  drew  up  at  Wirballen,  the  first 
town  on  the  Russian  frontier. 

At  last  we  were  in  Russia,  divided  from  the 
familiar  land  and  language  of  Germany  by  a  nar- 
row little  stream,  and  the  wish  of  Lord  Byron  was 
gratified  in  an  "  augenblick,"  while  Mr.  Thacke- 
ray laid  down  his  Russian  primer  and  proceeded 
to  stand  the  examination  of  the  gray-coated 
military  gentlemen  who  swarmed  about  the  sta- 
tion like  bees  around  a  hive. 

Here,  at  last,  everything  was  distinctively 
Muscovitish  ;  it  was  but  the  transition  of  a  few 
seconds,  but  it  was  not  necessary  to  be  officially 
informed  that  Germany  was  behind  us,  and  that 
we  had  at  last  reached  the  confines  of  that  vast 
country  toward  which  we  had  been  so  long  in 
coming.  Here  were  veritable  Cossacks,  Tartar- 
eyed  officers  with  double  dangling  swords  at  their 
sides,  sadly  impeding  their  daily  walk,  even  if 


IO  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

they  did  not  interfere  with  their  professional  con- 
versation ;  and  these  military-looking  men  with 
their  long,  gray  overcoats  and  flat,  gray  caps, 
together  with  the  astrakhan  helmets  of  the 
armed  police  with  their  breasts  embroidered  with 
a  double  row  of  cartridges  and  with  cross  daggers 
forming  a  St.  Andrew's  cross  over  their  breasts, 
impressed  upon  the  peaceful  strangers  the  stern 
and  sinister  fact  that  they  were  in  a  land  in 
which  the  old  motto  was  inverted,  a  land  where 
the  sword  was,  indeed,  mightier  than  the  pen. 

The  effect  of  this  sudden  and  unexpected 
transition  from  the  familiar  surroundings  of  the 
Fatherland  to  the  strange  surprise  of  this  land  of 
absolute  monarchy  was  quite  overwhelming.  It 
seemed  to  be  the  work  of  an  instant — like  the 
shifting  of  scenes  at  the  well-known  Opera  House 
at  Dresden.  Everything  was  changed  as  at  the 
nod  of  the  director  on  the  stage.  The  quaint  old 
German  cottages,  the  green  fields  of  the  old  land- 
scape, the  familiar  German  tongue,  the  uniforms 
of  the  German  Imperial  army,  and  the  running 
gear  of  the  railroad  cars,  were  all  a  thing  of  the 
past  now,  and  gave  place,  as  by  the  magician's 
wand,  to  white  snow,  gray  overcoats,  a  conun- 
drum-like sign  language,  ubiquitous  soldiers,  and  a 
distinct  odor  of  sheepskin — that  smell  of  leather 
which  seemed  to  haunt  the  tourist  and  hover  for- 
ever under  his  nostrils  throughout  all  the  land  of 
Russia. 


FROM  DRESDEN  TO  ST.  PETERSBURG.        \  I 

We  were  soon  given  to  understand  that  the 
next  thing  to  be  done  was  to  produce  our  pass- 
ports, and  not  to  be  long  about  it  either,  since 
these  almond-eyed  Tartar  gentlemen,  with  an 
embarrassment  of  riches  in  the  way  of  pistols  and 
swords,  had  everything  in  their  own  hands  in 
case  of  any  unwillingness  to  comply  with  their 
commands. 

As  good  luck  would  have  it,  the  writer  was  the 
first  man  to  graduate  from  this  examination  in 
the  dark  room,  and,  on  hearing  something  which 
sounded  like  his  name  as  it  might  have  been  pro- 
nounced in  the  Coptic  or  Sanscrit  tongues,  passed 
through  a  small  iron  gate  which  opened  into  the 
kingdom  of  the  Czar's  elect,  and  secured  once 
more  his  precious  passport,  while  his  friends, 
Lord  Byron  and  Mr.  Thackeray,  were  farther 
down  the  file. 

While  engaged  in  the  work  of  trying  to  deci- 
pher some  of  the  signs  in  the  shops  of  this  queer 
little  town  on  the  Russian  border — Wirballen  by 
name — a  stranger  approached,  with  hands  in 
pocket  and  Derby  hat  far  back  upon  the  head, 
whereupon  the  following  conversation  ensued  : 

"  Fellow-countryman,  I  believe." 

"  Yes,  I  am  an  American." 

"Stranger,  it  does  me  good  to  see  you.  I  want 
to  get  out  of  this  land  of  secret  police  and  queer 
language,  where  the  letters  are  all  drunk  and  run 
the  wrong  way,  like  lopsided  crabs.  I'd  give  my 


1 2  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

bottom  dollar  if  I  was  on  the  other  side  of  that 
brook." 

"Well,  why  don't  you  cross  over?" 
"  I  can't  do  it,  stranger.     I'm   travelling  with 
eight  elephants  and  my  passport  has  been  sent 
back  to  the  Crimea  to  get  vised  there." 

"  You  mean  that  you  are  in  a  party  of  eight  ?  " 
"  No,  not  that.  I  am  agent  for  Barnum,  and 
have  bought  eight  elephants  for  him  out  beyond 
the  Crimea.  There  they  are  ;  out  there,  eating 
their  heads  off.  It's  no  joke  keeping  eight  ele- 
phants upon  one's  hands  !  Why,  stranger,  they 
eat  a  barnful  of  hay  every  twenty-four  hours,  and 
here  I  am  anchored  to  this  spot  until  my  passport 
comes  back  from  the  Crimea.  You  see  I  happened 
to  forget  to  have  it  signed  out  there,  and  here  I 
am  with  only  that  little  brook  yonder  keeping  me 
from  touching  German  soil,  and  yet  I  cannot 
cross  over,  all  because  of  that  miserable  passport 
system.  Stranger,  I'd  give  a  hundred  dollars  if  I 
only  had  them  eight  elephants  across  that  brook 
and  safely  on  board  the  Hamburg  steamer ! 
Just  look  at  them  eating  !  " 

A  view  out  of  the  station  window,  which,  since 
the  name  of  Barnum  had  been  mentioned,  in  some 
strange  way  seemed  to  take  on  a  resemblance 
to  the  railway  station  at  Bridgeport,  Conn.,  on  the 
N.  Y.  &  N.  H.  R.  R.  revealed  the  sight  of  the 
eight  elephants  tossing  hay  over  their  heads  in  a 
freakish  sort  of  play,  while  the  four  keepers  strove 


FROM  DRESDEN  TO  ST.  PETERSBURG.        13 

in  vain  to  keep  the  littered  place  in  some  sort  of 
order. 

The  "  stranger,"  having  expressed  his  sym- 
pathy with  his  disconsolate  fellow-countryman — 
inasmuch  as  he  himself  had  been  lately  conduct- 
ing a  party  of  eight  tourists  through  Europe — 
and  having  judiciously  admonished  his  fellow 
"  keeper "  upon  the  sinfulness  of  appending  a 
pack  of  firecracker  oaths  at  the  end  of  every 
sentence,  turned  from  the  picture  of  the  playful 
elephants  tossing  to  and  fro  their  evening  allow- 
ance of  hay  by  the  banks  of  the  dividing  river 
which  separates  the  domain  of  the  Russian  Czar 
from  that  of  the  German  Kaiser,  to  look  for  his 
lost  friends  and  discovered  by  their  happy  faces, 
like  schoolboys  who  had  passed  their  examination, 
that  Lord  Byron  and  Mr.  Thackeray  had  gradu- 
ated from  the  Russian  Custom  House  at  Wirballen. 

The  important  work  of  becoming  accustomed 
to  this  strange  Cossack  environment  was  not  a 
little  helped  by  the  judicious  use  of  copper 
copecks  thrown  around  to  the  assorted  variety  of 
military  officials,  who,  with  swords  and  daggers 
and  carbines  hanging  at  their  sides  and  cartridges 
embroidered  in  rows  of  dozens  across  the  breast, 
proved  the  truthfulness  of  the  English  school- 
boy's prime  article  of  belief,  "  Never  scorn  the 
humble  brown  " — the  humble  brown  being  an 
equivalent  term  for  the  copper  penny. 

Silence  is  golden  always  in  Russia,  especially 


14  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

when  preceded  and  followed  by  the  distribution 
of  copecks,  which,  like  charity,  are  found  to 
cover  a  multitude  of  sins  ! 

At  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  this  same  day 
the  train  started  for  St.  Petersburg. 

The  first  impression  in  these  Russian  cars  was 
a  decidedly  American  impression.  The  smoke 
that  came  from  the  locomotive  revealed  the  fact 
that  the  fuel  used  was  pine  wood,  and  it  seemed 
at  first  as  if  one  were  travelling  through  the  upper 
portion  of  New  Hampshire  or  in  the  Sunny  South, 
while  the  scenery  was  like  that  through  the  scrub- 
oak  section  of  the  Michigan  Central  road  through 
Canada. 

On  every  side  was  observed  the  distinct  type  of 
the  Tartar  face  in  the  soldiers,  the  peasants  and 
the  police.  So  much  impressed  was  one  of  the 
party  with  the  Orientalism  of  the  scene  that  he 
broke  at  once  into  the  opening  strain  of  the 
"  Mikado," 

"  We  are  gentlemen  of  Japan," 

but  the  Cossack  conductor,  not  understanding 
English,  took  no  notice  of  this  apparent  act  of 
indiscretion. 

The  next  thing  to  be  done  was  the  mastering 
of  the  Russian  language.  These  tourists  began 
at  this  in  reading  and  deciphering  signs.  Lord 
Byron  was  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy  when  he  found 
that  he  had  been  able  to  spell  "  buffet,"  which 


MOM  DRESDEN  TO  ST.  PETERSBURG.        I  5 

had  the  Greek  letter  "  Phi  "  in  the  middle  of  it  ; 
whereas  Mr.  Thackeray,  the  teacher  of  the  lan- 
guage in  this  class,  took  great  delight  that  he  had 
mastered  the  word  "  scholchoi  "  ("  How  much 
does  it  cost  ?")  With  regret,  however,  it  must  be 
confessed  that  this  word  appears  to  be  reserved 
for  some  classical  use  ;  as  the  natives  along  the 
road  never  seemed  to  reply  to  it,  but  carefully 
took  the  money  that  was  offered  to  them  and 
never  made  any  change,  whether  they  were 
offered  rouble  notes  or  a  handful  of  copecks. 

All  the  afternoon  and  evening  the  class  in  the 
Russian  language  continued  their  studies,  every 
now  and  then  missing  their  vowels  and  getting 
their  consonants  in  the  wrong  place,  but  in  every 
other  respect  being  most  excellent  linguists. 

The  train  for  St.  Petersburg  was  upon  a  single 
track  and  stopped  every  twenty-five  or  thirty 
minutes  in  order  that  the  passengers  might  take 
refreshments  at  the  wayside  eating-houses,  while 
the  engine  at  the  same  time  took  wood  and  water. 
At  all  of  these  stations  the  peculiar  Russian 
shrine,  or  "  Icon,"  an  image  which  is  exposed  for 
worship,  was  to  be  seen. 

The  Cossack  conductor  was  a  wily-looking 
character,  who  spoke  only  in  Russian.  However, 
he  did  his  best  to  explain  the  nature  of  the  coun- 
try through  which  we  were  passing,  which  con- 
sisted of  a  long  and  weary  stretch  across  the 
snow-covered  fields.  No  towns  or  villages  were 


1 6  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

in  sight,  and  the  only  signs  of  life  which  were 
obtained  were  the  little  rude  peasants'  huts  as 
they  were  clustered  together  in  these  small  ham- 
lets. 

The  following  morning,  while  at  breakfast  at 
one  of  these  eating-stations  by  the  side  of  the 
railway,  we  were  surprised  at  discovering  a  group 
of  beggars — men,  women  and  children — clad  in 
sheepskins,  with  hides  bound  about  their  legs 
with  thongs.  These  wretched  creatures  began  a 
series  of  ritualistic  bowing  to  us,  the  women  act- 
ually going  down  on  their  knees  to  us  and  putting 
their  heads  to  the  ground.  It  was  a  novel  sight, 
but  before  we  got  through  with  our  journey  we 
saw  many  specimens  of  the  mendicant.  He  is  on 
every  hand  in  Russia  and  swarms  like  the  locust 
in  that  land.  This  group  of  beggars  performed 
their  antics,  all  the  time  we  were  at  breakfast, 
with  the  same  feeling  that  actuated  Felix  when 
he  sent  for  the  Apostle  Paul,  of  whom  we  read  : 
"  He  hoped  also  that  money  should  have  been 
given  him  of  Paul  ;  wherefore  he  sent  for  him 
that  he  might  commune  with  him." 

The  miserable  children  were  experts  at  this 
ritualistic  performance,  and  they  all  seemed  to 
express  a  great  sense  of  relief  when  they  reached 
the  main  element  of  their  worship  in  the  passing 
of  the  contribution-box.  It  was  made  of  tin,  so 
that  every  copeck  sounded  well  in  it  ;  for  while 
these  beggars  believe  in  charity,  they  do  not  at 


FROM  DRESDEN  TO  ST.  PETERSBURG.       \J 

all  despise  the  "  sounding  brass  and  tinkling  cym- 
bals." 

That  which  strikes  the  traveller  in  passing 
through  this  long  stretch  of  country  is  the  fact 
that  there  seems  to  be  no  middle  class.  There 
are  no  towns  or  villages,  only  hamlets,  with 
^tables  for  sheep  and  other  animals  directly 
among  the  dwellings  of  the  people. 

At  6  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the  second  day 
from  Dresden  the  sun  set  in  sight,  directly  over 
St.  Petersburg.  We  could  see  the  smoke  arising 
from  the  great  city,  which  in  some  strange  way 
reminds  one  of  Cleveland  with  its  clouds  of 
smoke  over  Lake  Erie. 

The  river  Neva  flows  from  the  dark  waters  of 
Lake  Olga  directly  to  St.  Petersburg.  The  train 
passed  by  the  town  of  Gatchina,  the  Czar's  coun- . 
try  residence,  and  his  royal  train,  which  was  in 
readiness  to  take  him  the  next  day  to  St.  Peters- 
burg, was  standing  upon  a  side  track, 

As  we  neared  the  city  of  St.  Petersburg,  the 
heavy  smoke  which  hung  over  it  seemed  like  a 
huge  pall,  gray  and  leaden  ;  and  at  every  turn, 
wherever  there  was  a  road  to  the  city,  at  the 
crossing  of  the  railroad  track,  the  ubiquitous 
Russian  soldier  could  be  seen  with  his  flat,  gray 
cap  and  red  band,  and  long,  gray  overcoat,  Set- 
ing  as  sentinel  at  the  gates. 

All  the  horses  were  harnessed  to  sledges  ;  the 
three-horse  sledge  or  "  tritska  "  seems  to  be  the 


1 8  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

favorite  vehicle,  and  the  universal  hoop  or  arch 
over  the  horses'  heads  is  a  distinctive  feature  of 
all  Russian  harness. 

As  our  train  went  whirling  into  St.  Petersburg 
the  smoke  from  the  resinous  wood  enveloped  it 
in  a  cloud,  and  as  we  looked  out  of  the  window 
on  the  left,  past  the  Emperor's  palace  at  Gat- 
china,  we  saw  a  lonely  Russian  peasant  driving 
his  sledge  toward  the  west  as  the  sun  was  going 
down.  He  was  going  home,  we  were  hurrying  to 
St.  Petersburg  to  the  welcome  of  a  great  hotel  ; 
the  Czar  was  coming  on  behind  us  in  his  special 
royal  train  ; — what  was  the  peasant  driving  home 
to'? 


CHAPTER  II. 

ST.    PETERSBURG. 

THE  unknown  author  of  the  Book  of  Kings  in 
the  Old  Testament,  had  a  very  ingenuous  method 
of  referring  all  readers  who  are  desirous  of 
ascertaining  further  facts  concerning  the  history 
of  the  heroes  whom  he  mentions,  to  the  compan- 
ion book  of  Chronicles  for  obscure  points  con- 
nected with  their  lives.  "  Now  the  rest  of  the 
acts  of  King  Hezekiah  and  all  that  he  did,  are 
they  not  written  in  the  books  of  the  Chronicles 
of  the  Kings  of  Judah  ?" 

In  like  manner,  the  writer  of  this  story  begs  to 
refer  all  readers  who  are  desirous  of  statistical 
information,  to  Murray's  and  Baedeker's  guide- 
books, and  to  the  recent  magazine  articles  in  the 
Century  and  Harper  s,  as  well  as  to  the  different 
books  upon  Russia,  which  have  so  recently  been 
published  in  that  lavish  abundance  which  clearly 
indicates  a  popular  interest  in  this  vast  and  slowly 
developing  country.* 


by  W.  H.  Dixon  ;  "  England  and  Russia,"  by  Madame  Olga  Novikoff; 
".Skobeleff  and  the  Slavonic  Cause,"  by  O.  K.;  "Impressions  of 
Russia,"  by  George  Brandes. 


2O  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

The  philosophy  of  the  baker,  who  related  his 
adventures  in  the  well-known  poem,  "The  Hunt- 
ing of  the  Snark,"  comes  home  to  one  who,  in  the 
presence  of  all  this  lavish  display  of  information 
and  research,  attempts  to  describe  his  impressions 
of  Russia  after  the  didactic  method  of  the 
average  guide-book. 

"'My  Father  and  Mother  were  honest  though  poor — ' 
'  Skip  all  that,'  cried  the  Bellman  in  haste. 
'  If  it  once  becomes  dark  we've  no  chance  of  a  snark — 
We  have  hardly  a  minute  to  wait.' 
'  I  skip  forty  years,'  said  the  Baker  in  tears, 
'  And  proceed  without  further  remark 
To  the  day  when  you  took  me  aboard  of  your  ship 
To  help  you  in  hunting  the  snark. 
A  dear  uncle  of  mine,  after  whom  I  was  named, 
Remarked,  when  I  bade  him  farewell — ' 
'  O,  skip  your  dear  uncle  ! '  the  Bellman  exclaimed 
As  he  angrily  tinkled  his  bell." 

Mark  Twain  has  declared  in  one  of  his  stories 
that  he  was  always  willing  to  write  obituary 
notices  or  deliver  funeral  orations  about  strangers, 
as  in  this  way  he  was  not  embarrassed  by  facts — 
since  it  is  the  facts  of  friendship  which  impede 
and  hinder  the  eloquent  oration.  Facts  are  some- 
times extremely  in  the  way.  Let  us  try  to  be  as 
little  incommoded  as  possible  by  their  presence, 
while  truthfully  giving  our  impressions  in  this 
story  of  a  "  Run  Through  Russia." 

The  first  distinct  impression  of  St.  Petersburg 
on  arriving  is  that  it  is,  like  Nineveh,  "a  very 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  21 

great  city,"  and  very  far  away  from  the  rest  of 
mankind.  When  one  has  travelled  for  forty-eight 
hours  along  a  narrow  line  of  single-track  railroad 
without  coming  to  towns  or  villages  or  junctions 
or  cross-roads,  one  begins  to  doubt  whether  there 
be  any  St.  Petersburg,  after  all,  at  the  other  end 
of  this  long  run,  so  far  away  does  it  seem  ;  and 
the  disturbing  doubts  which  beset  the  crew  of 
Columbus  begin  to  make  their  presence  felt  as  the 
endless  stretch  of  perspective  rails  run  on  and  on 
towards  the  ever-receding  North  Pole. 

On  arriving  at  St.  Petersburg  one  is  impressed 
at  once  with  the  haste  and  business  activity  of  the 
place.  It  seems  the  most  like  an  American  city 
of  any  of  the  great  cities  of  Europe,  with  its  ele- 
gant palaces  and  open  lots  and  small  wooden  and 
brick  tenements  crowded  together.  Something 
about  it  reminds  one  at  once  of  Washington,  and 
of  North  Broad  Street,  Philadelphia,  and  of  cer- 
tain parts  of  New  York,  namely,  Sixth,  Seventh 
and  Eighth  Avenues. 

We  drove  at  once  in  an  omnibus  along  the 
celebrated  Nevskoi  Prospekt,  with  its  four  lines 
of  carriages,  racing,  driving,  tearing  up  and  down 
in  alternate  rows,  like  a  four  deep  chariot-race  in 
the  Coliseum  of  Ancient  Rome.  Droskies,  sedate 
carriages  with  liveried  footmen  and  coachmen, 
troitskas,  or  three-horse  sledges,  with  the  universal 
hoop  over  the  horses'  necks,  and  long  lumbering 
wagons  with  peculiar  and  oriental  harnessing,  and 


22  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

yet  withal  with  a  semi-western  look  of  newness 
and  familiarity,  make  this  famous  street  seem  very 
natural  and  very  American  in  the  sense  of  nervous 
haste  which  it  imparts  to  all  who  enter  it.  In  his 
article  on  palatial  Petersburg,  in  the  July  number 
of  Harper's  Magazine,  1889,  Mr.  Theodore  Child 
says  : 

"  With  a  last  glance  at  the  Nevskoi  Prospekt — 
the  pride  of  every  patriotic  Russian — we  will  con- 
clude our  observations  on  palatial  Petersburg. 
This  famous  street  is  remarkable  first  of  all  for  its 
dimensions  ;  it  is  more  than  a  hundred  feet  broad 
and  three  miles  long. 

"  In  this  framework,  admirably  called  a  Prospect 
— for  the  whole  street  is  calculated  to  produce  its 
effect  when  looked  at  in  perspective  and  not  when 
examined  in  detail — the  whole  characteristic 
movement  of  St.  Petersburg  may  be  seen  ;  the 
tramways ;  the  strings  of  telegas,  laden  with 
goods  ;  the  clouds  of  common  droskies,  looking 
like  toy  carriages  ;  the  finer  private  droskies, 
drawn  by  -splendid,  long-stepping  trotters,  har- 
nessed so  lightly  that  the  beauty  of  their  form  is 
nowhere  concealed  ;  the  troitskas  with  their  team 
harnessed  fanwise,  three  abreast ;  the  throngs  of 
silent  foot-passengers — mujiks,  civil  servants, 
officers  in  long  gray  overcoats ;  worsen  of  the 
lower  classes,  wearing  short  dresses  of  pale  green, 
unaesthetic  blues,  with  gaudily  embroidered  ker- 
chiefs on  their  heads  ;  ladies  in  Parisian  toilettes  : 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  23 

here  and  there  queer  old  women,  who  seem  to  have 
seen  better  days,  and  who  now  console  themselves 
by  smoking  cigarettes  as  they  lounge  in  the  sun  ; 
mujiks,  who,  in  spite  of  the  warmth,  still  remain 
faithful  to  their  sheepskin  touloupes,  and  who 
loaf  along,  dreamily  cracking  sunflower  seeds,  the 
chewing  of  which  is  a  favorite,  popular  distraction; 
street-hawkers  who  sell  '  kvas '  and  other  drinks, 
cakes,  sweets,  fruit  and  flowers  ;  nursemaids 
wearing  the  national  costume,  and  coiffure — a  sort 
of  tiara  of  blue  or  red  velvet,  embroidered  with 
big  pearl  beads  ;  priests  in  long  flowing  black 
gowns  and  tall  brimless  hats,  sometimes  covered 
with  a  veil  ;  Circassians  with  their  long  coats  and 
their  breasts  stiff  with  cartridges  ;  a  patrol  of 
Cossacks  ambling  along  on  their  small,  nervous 
little  horses,  with  their  hay-nets  slung  from  the 
saddles.  Horsemen  are  rare  in  St.  Petersburg, 
for  the  Russians  do  not  appreciate  riding  as  a 
pleasure.  The  great  means  of  locomotion  is  that 
foolish  vehicle — the  drosky — which  is  the  most 
universal  and  characteristic  feature  in  Russian 
street  landscape." 

Arriving  at  our  destination,  the  Hotel  de 
Europe,  we  were  cordially  met  and  welcomed  by 
a  stranger  who  seemed  to  be  expecting  us,  and 
when  we  asked  his  name  our  friend  replied,  "  I 
am  James  Pilley,  gentlemen."  Whereupon  Mr. 
Thackeray  informed  us  that  before  starting  from 
Dresden  he  had  written  to  engage  rooms  for  us 


24  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

and  to  secure  the  services  of   that  eminent  guide 
on  our  visit  to  St.  Petersburg. 

James  Pilley  was  the  most  remarkable  guide 
that  it  was  ever  our  good  fortune  to  meet. 
Whether  in  professional  or  in  private  life,  Pilley 
was  always  most  interesting.  His  method  of  hir- 
ing a  drosky  was  always  unique.  He  would  go 
forth  into  the  streets  and  call  out  in  loud,  lusty 
tones  to  the  assembled  congregation  of  drosky 
drivers,  who  would  rush  up  to  demand  his  favor. 
At  first,  we  thought  it  was  a  Nihilist  uprising,  but 
later  on  we  discovered  that  it  was  only  his  original 
method  of  securing  the  best  drosky  in  the  vicinity. 
We  regret  to  state  that  the  custom  in  vogue 
whereby  the  drosky  driver  was  to  consider  himself 
rejected,  was  the  familiar  American  method  of 
spitting  on  the  rejected  candidate.  The  hereto- 
fore noisy,  loud-spoken  Russian  "  cabby,"  who  up 
to  this  point  considered  himself  a  candidate  for 
Pilley's  favor,  hereupon  would  take  a  back  seat,  if 
such  a  thing  could  be  possible  in  one  who  always 
sits  on  the  front  seat  of  the  drosky  ;  and  Pilley 
was  henceforth  in  command  of  the  drosky  which 
had  made  the  cheapest  fare  for  the  trip.  This 
alarming  performance  was  repeated  every  time  we 
wanted  a  conveyance.  In  whatever  light  we  con- 
sidered Pilley,  he  was  always  an  enigma.  You 
might  see  him  sleeping,  like  a  seal  on  an  iceberg, 
among  the  "  Dienstmen  "  or  commissionaires  in 
the  hotel  lobby  ;  for  Pilley's  method  of  recruiting 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  25 

his  wasted  energies  was  like  that  of  the  great 
Napoleon,  who  had  the  rare  faculty  of  instantly 
dropping  to  sleep  when  off  duty. 

When  Pilley  was  describing  churches,  palaces, 
shrines,  cathedrals  or  the  works  of  art  therein  to 
be  found,  there  was  no  trifling  with  him  on  duty. 
He  had  about  him  the  most  unique  faculty  of 
making  men  and  things  go.  "  Stretch  your  necks, 
gentlemen,"  he  would  say  when  we  were  called 
upon  to  look  at  some  far-off  fresco  in  the  ceiling 
of  palace  or  cathedral,  "  Stretch  your  necks,  gen- 
tlemen, there's  nothing  in  Europe  which  comes 

near  it  !  " 

In  remonstrating  with  him  on  one  occasion 
while  threading  our  way  through  St.  Isaac's  Ca- 
thedral, where  the  worshippers,  as  thick  as  black- 
berries in  September,  were  devoting  themselves 
before  a  certain  shrine,  and  where  we  were  carried 
along  in  a  careless  Irish  jaunting-car  style — he 
simply  replied,  "Why  gentlemen,  this  is  all  right, 
I  am  James  Pilley." 

The  sights  of  St.  Petersburg  are  many  and-were 
seen  by  the  party  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  James 
Pilley  in  something  like  this  manner  : 

"  Firetpwer,  gentlemen  1674  (or  something  like 
it)  feet  high  ;  belt  rings  whenever  there  is  a  fire- 
quite  American-like,  I  am  told  !  " 

"Tea  in  camels'  skins,  gentlemen — look  'ere  sir 
—'ere  in  this  window— not  over  there  sir— 'ere  sir ; 


26  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

tea  brought  over  the  plains  all  the  way  from 
China." 

"  Where  do  they  get  the  camels'  skins,  Mr. 
Pilley  ?  "  inquired  Lord  Byron. 

"  They  call  them  camels'  skins,"  replied  Mr. 
Pilley,  "  but  then,  sir,  we  know  that  they  are  other 
skins  besides  camel  skins,  but  they  bring  them 
over  on  the  camels'  backs,  sir,  all  the  same,  all 
the  way  over  from  China." 

"funeral,  gentlemen, — very  poor  person, — wish 
I  could  show  you  a  regular  rich  funeral, — one 
horse  and  two  mourners  you  perceive, — very  poor 
funeral  !  " 

This  remark  of  Mr.  Pilley's  was  called  forth  by 
the  sudden  appearance  of  a  horse  with  a  black 
pall  upon  it,  covering  head  and  ears,  like  the 
covering  of  a  knight's  horse  in  days  of  heraldry 
and  tournament.  A  long  wooden  wagon,  likewise 
covered  with  a  pall,  followed,  on  which  was 
placed  the  coffin,  in  plain  board,  while  two  peasant 
women,  in  peculiar  garb,  walked  behind. 

"  Here  comes  a  wet  nurse,  gentlemen,"  observed 
the  irrepressible  Pilley,  "  she  comes  from  the 
Foundling  Hospital  established  by  the  Empress 
Catherine  II.,  to  stop  the  prevailing  national  crime 
of  infanticide.  They  have  as  many  as  eight  new 
babies  every  day  and  can  accommodate  eight 
hundred  babies  at  one  time." 

As  we  turned  our  gaze  from  the  funeral  to  the 
nurse,  we  observed  a  huge  peasant  woman  with  a 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  2J 

peculiar  arrangement  of  red  head-gear  and  petti- 
coat, and  white  puffs  and  flaps  around  the  neck 
and  shoulders,  who  came  walking  along  toward  us 
as  if  she  were  a  metal  doll  who  had  been  wound 
up  to  walk,  or  a  stuffed  pin-cushion  after  the 
familiar  pattern  seen  at  the  average  church  fair. 

St.  Petersburg  was  dull  without  Pilley  to  enliven 
it.  In  fact,  life  seemed  dull  after  being  cared  for 
and  carried  along  by  Pilley.  He  it  was  who  laid 
out  for  us  our  daily  work.  He  consummated  the 
difficult  and  laborious  work  of  rightly  seeing  the 
sights  of  St.  Petersburg.  When  remonstrated 
with  on  one  occasion,  while  he  was  showing  us  a 
number  of  saints'  bones  which  we  thought  we  had 
seen  in  other  countries,  he  explained  it  by  saying, 
"  Good  gracious,  gentlemen,  there  is  no  country  in 
the  world  as  rich  in  holy  bones  as  Russia  !  " 
And  to  say  the  least,  this  bone-factory  method  of 
canonizing  the  anatomy  of  the  saints  was  striking 
and  interesting. 

After  seeing  the  shrines  and  the  icons  in  the 
streets,  the  place  where  the  late  Czar  was  killed, 
with  the  new  chapel  which  is  placed  upon  it,  the 
bazaars  and  gin-shops,  the  horse-cars,  and  the 
cattle  market,  which  in  some  way  has  a  strange 
resemblance  to  a  Chicago  or  St.  Louis  drove-yard, 
the  School  of  Mines,  and  the  various  columns  and 
statues  and  palaces  of  the  city,  the  great  objects 
of  interest  in  St.  Petersburg  are  found  to  be  the 
Winter  Palace  and  the  Hermitage,  the  Nevski 


28  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

Monastery  and  Convent  of  St.  John  Nevski,  the 
Fortress  and  the  Church  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul, 
and  the  Cathedrals  of  St.  Isaac  and  of  Our  Lady 
of  Kazan,  and  the  hut  and  boat  of  Peter  the  Great, 
in  both  of  which  he  lived,  while  he,  like  immortal 
cyclops,  worked  at  the  creation  of  St.  Petersburg. 

The  cathedrals  and  the  monastery  we  will  con- 
sider in  a  later  chapter  ;  the  Winter  Palace  and 
the  Hermitage  deserve  a  chapter  in  this  story  for 
themselves  alone.  Let  us,  in  the  remainder  of 
this  chapter,  go  round  about  this  wonderful  city 
of  his  taste — this  creation  of  the  will  and  the 
genius  of  Russia's  most  potent  personality — Peter 
the  Great — palatial  Petersburg. 

There  is  no  such  striking  personality  in  the 
history  of  any  country  of  Europe  as  that  of  the 
illustrious  Peter  the  Great.  In  St.  Petersburg  at 
every  turn,  in  the  famous  Hermitage  Gallery,  in 
the  celebrated  fortress  of  Peter  and  Paul  (the 
Westminster  Abbey  of  Russia),  by  picture,  statue 
and  public  work  at  every  turn  his  memory  is  pre- 
served and  honored  as  the  great  founder  of  this 
young  empire.  To  the  American  visitor  there  is 
much  about  Peter  the  Great  which  reminds  one  of 
our  own  Benjamin  Franklin.  He  strikes  us  as  a 
Franklin  who,  by  some  wave  of  fate,  happened  to 
be  born  the  heir  to  a  throne.  He  has  the  same 
broad  forehead,  indicative  of  the  faculty  of  me- 
chanical invention.  How  this  man  could  have 
accomplished  so  much  in  fifty  years  is  an  everlast- 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  29 

ing  cause  of  wonder.  His  work-room,  his  lathes 
and  machines,  the  boat  he  built,  the  travelling  car- 
riage he  invented — strangely  like  our  '  modern 
American  buck-board — his  tools,  trunks,  book- 
cases, hampers,  furniture  and  inventions  of  all 
kinds  remind  the  American  visitor  very  markedly 
of  the  handicraft  tendency  of  Benjamin  Franklin, 
who  lightened  the  hours  of  his  anxious  days  of 
statesmanship  with  the  muscular  delights  of 
physical  exercise. 

In  "  The  Story  of  Russia,"  by  W.  R.  Morfill, 
the  latest  volume  in  "  The  Story  of  the  Nations  " 
series,  his  work  and  character  are  thus  described  : 
"  It  is  difficult  to  estimate  accurately  the  Titanic 
figure  of  Peter.  He  was  a  strange  mixture  of 
virtues  and  vices.  Inheriting  all  the  traditions  of 
despotism,  we  must  not  feel  surprised  if,  like  our 
own  Edward  I.  he  had  no  scruple  in  removing  any 
obstacles  which  appeared  in  his  path.  To  the 
same  source  must  be  traced  his  lack  of  self-rule  and 
physical  restraint.  He  was  descended,  we  must 
remember,  from  a  long  line  of  semi-Asiatic  bar- 
barians, and  if  he  had  not  been  a  man  of  power- 
ful genius,  would  have  been  content,  as  they  were, 
with  the  idleness  and  luxury  of  a  palace — 

1  Like  one  of  nature's  fools  who  feed  on  praise.' 

He  was  willing  to  abandon  all  these  pleasures,  so 
captivating  to  the  ordinary  mind,  to  put  himself, 
as  it  were,  to  school,  to  endure  privations  and 


30  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

labor,  in  order  to  break  with  a  system  against 
which  his  intellect  rebelled.  There  was  genius 
in  his  sense  of  the  dignity  of  labor  and  his  un- 
quenchable thirst  for  knowledge.  The  active 
brain  was  ever  at  work  ;  all  persons  who  came  in 
contact  with  him  were  struck  with  the  vigor  and 
originality  of  his  mind — and  not  the  least,  William 
III-.,  one  of  the  wisest  sovereigns  of  his  day.  The 
reverse  of  the  medal  is  less  pleasing — his  reckless- 
ness of  human  life,  his  intemperance,  and  the 
brutality  shown  to  his  miserable  son.  Had  he 
been  a  Turkish  Sultan  this  last-mentioned  crime 
would  have  been  according  to  the  natural  order 
of  things  ;  but  the  strong  European  side  of  Peter 
makes  us  forget  his  Asiatic  training. 

"Many  have  challenged  the  utility  of  the  inno- 
vations which  he  introduced  into  Russia.  Would 
it  not  have  been  better,  they  say,  to  have  allowed 
the  country  to  develop  itself  gradually  and  not  to 
force  upon  it  a  premature  ripeness  ?  But  to  this 
it  may  be  answered  that  all  the  best  men  who 
had  written  on  Russia,  under  the  old  order  of 
things  saw  that  amelioration  could  only  result 
from  without.  Such  was  the  opinion  of  Krizhan- 
ich  and  Kotishikhin — two  shrewd  observers  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  At  the  beginning  of  his 
reign  Peter  found  Russia  Asiatic,  he  left  her 
European.  He  created  a  navy  and  gave  her  an 
outlet  on  the  Baltic,  the  attempt  to  force  a  pas- 
sage by  the  embouchure  of  the  Don  at  Azov  hav- 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  31 

ing  failed.  Instead  of  the  disorderly,  badly-ac- 
coutered  regiments  of  the  Streltsi,  he  gave  to 
Russia  an  army  clothed  and  disciplined  on  the 
European  model.  He  added  many  provinces  to 
the  empire,  constructed  canals,  developed  many 
industries,  and  caused  serviceable  books  to  be 
translated  into  Russian,  so  that  his  ignorant  sub- 
jects might  be  instructed.  He  gave  Russia  libra- 
ries and  museums,  galleries  of  painting  and  of 
sculpture/,  and,  finally,  from  an  obscure  barbaric 
power,  isolated  from  her  European  sister  king- 
doms, he  created  a  powerful  empire,  recognized 
as  one  of  the  most  important  states  and  able  to 
make  its  voice  heard  in  the  councils  of  Europe. 
Many  volumes  of  anecdotes  about  this  remarka- 
ble man  have  been  published.  They  show  him 
abounding  in  lively  sallies,  quick-witted  and 
shrewd,  simple  in  his  tastes  and  with  the  natural 
contempt  of  a  man  of  genius  for  pomp  and  milli- 
nery. No  man  enjoyed  more — perhaps  even  in  a 
boyish  manner — scandalizing  the  proprieties  of 
conventional  persons,  immersed  in  ignorance  and 
conceit,  such  as  those  with  whom  Russia 
abounded.  For  the  pompous  boyars  to  see  their 
Tsar  sometimes  going  about  without  an  attendant 
and  wearing  an  old  shabby  blue  coat — or  showing 
them  a  pair  of  horse-shoes  which  he  had  made — 
or  sitting  smoking  a  pipe  with  a  newly-arrived 
Dutch  or  English  skipper,  must  indeed  have  been 
an  indescribable  shock.  He  honors  now  and  then 


32  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

heretics  like  Gordon  and  Lefort,  by  accepting  an 
invitation  to  dine  at  their  houses,  and  standing 
godfather  to  their  children.  But  again  we  think 
of  the  reverse  of  the  medal,  the  paroxysms  of  rage 
and  the  ruthlessly  cruel  punishments.  The  man 
is  from  beginning  to  end  an  enigma  ;  but  it  is  im- 
possible to  deny  his  claims  to  genius,  or  to  the 
title  which  has  been  ungrudgingly  assigned  him 
— Peter  the  Great." 

The  foundation-stone  of  the  Cathedral  of  St. 
Peter  and  St.  Paul  was  laid  by  Peter  the  Great, 
on  the  i6th  of  May,  1703,  and  the  edifice  was  con- 
secrated in  the  year  1733.  Every  one  knows  the 
story  of  its  triple  strokes  by  lightning  and  of  the 
adventurous  exploit  of  the  Russian  peasant  who, 
in  the  year  1803,  with  simply  a  repe  and  a  nail, 
climbed  up  the  tall,  thin  tapering  spire,  158  feet 
high,  to  replace  the  damaged  globe  and  cross. 
"  All  the  sovereigns  of  Russia,"  says  Murray,  lie 
buried  in  the  Cathedral,  excepting  only  Peter  II., 
who  died  and  was  interred  at  Moscow.  The 
bodies  are  deposited  under  the  floor  of  the  Cathe- 
dral, the  marble  tombs  above  only  marking  the 
sites  of  the  grave.  The  tomb  of  Peter  the  Great 
should  be  visited  first.  It  lies  near  the  south  door, 
opposite  the  image  of  St.  Peter.  The  image,  with 
its  rich  gold  frame,  gives  Peter's  stature  at  his 
birth,  viz.  :  19^  inches,  as  well  as  his  breadth  5^ 
inches.  His  consort,  Catherine  I.,  lies  buried  in 
the  same  vault.  The  tomb  of  Catherine  II.,  is  the 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  33 

third  to  the  right  of  the  altar-screen.  The  row 
of  tombs  on  the  north  side  of  the  Cathedral  be- 
gins with  that  of  the  Emperor  Paul.  The  image 
of  St.  Paul  opposite  to  it  gives  the  height  and 
breadth  of  that  sovereign  at  birth. 

The  diamond  wedding-ring  of  the  Emperor 
Alexander  is  attached  to  the  image  near  his  tomb. 
The  sarcophagus  of  the  Grand  Duke  Constantine, 
brother  of  Nicholas  I.,  will  be  recognized  by  the 
keys  of  the  fortress  of  Modlin  and  Zamoscz,  in 
Poland,  which  lie  on  it.  The  Emperor  Nicholas 
lies  in  the  aisle  opposite  the  tomb  of  Peter  the 
Great,  while  the  grave  of  his  grandson  and  name- 
sake— the  deeply  lamented  Tsesarevitch,  who 
died  at  Nice  in  1865 — will  easily  be  recognized  in 
the  same  aisle  by  the  palm-branches  and  garland 
of  roses  deposited  upon  it  by  those  who  so  deeply 
mourn  his  loss. 

The  walls  are  almost  concealed  by  military 
trophies,  standards,  flags,  keys  of  fortresses, 
shields  and  battle-axes  taken  from  the  Swedes, 
Turks,  Persians,  Poles  and  French.  The  devices 
on  the  flags  will  be  a  sufficient  indication  of  their 
origin. 

The  fortress  is  used  as  a  state  prison.  Alexis, 
the  eldest  son  of  Peter  the  Great,  having  been 
persuaded  to  return  from  Germany,  was  arraigned 
for  treason  and  imprisoned  in  the  dreary  case- 
mates of  this  dungeon,  where  his  father  visited 
him  immediately  previous  to  his  sudden  death. 


34  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

The  conspirators  of  1825  were  confined  and  tried, 
and  some  executed  within  its  walls.  The  cells 
are  not  shown  to  visitors,  but  the  Cathedral  is 
open  all  day.  The  Imperial  Mint  stands  within 
the  walls  and  may  be  viewed  by  visitors  on  appli- 
cation. 

There  is  no  more  impressive  sight  in  all  Russia 
than  the  tombs  of  the  Czars  and  Grand  Dukes  in 
this  famous  fortress  church,  with  the  keys  of  the 
towers  and  fortresses  which  they  have  conquered 
reposing,  with  the  dust  of  ages  upon  them,  on  the 
broad  surface  of  the  sarcophagus  or  monument. 

"  The  keys  of  Death  and  Hell,"  held  by  the 
Master  of  life,  seemed  fittingly  symbolized  by 
these  heavy,  dusty  fortress  keys — only  the  con- 
queror, Death,  being  in  turn  conquered  by  Him 
who  had  destroyed  death. 

On  one  of  the  marshy  islands,  upon  which 
Peter  the  Great  built  his  "  window  looking  out 
toward  Europe"  is  situated  his  cottage — this 
being  the  first  house  built  by  Peter  on  the  banks 
of  the  Neva,  in  the  year  1703.  It  is  not  very  far 
from  the  fortress  and  is  situated  on  the  same 
island.  There  are  two  rooms  and  a  kitchen  in 
this  wooden  cottage  and  what  was  formerly 
Peter's  bedroom  is  now  used  as  a  chapel. 

The  famous  image  of  the  Saviour,  endowed 
with  miraculous  properties,  which  was  always  the 
companion  of  Peter  the  Great  in  his  battles  and 
succored  his  hard-pushed  forces  so  remarkably  (as 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  35 

he  believed)  at  the  battle  of  Poltava,  is  suspended 
to  the  wall  and  is  the  object  of  the  most  pro- 
found adoration  on  the  part  of  faithful  devotees. 

Peter's  famous  boat,  the  remains  of  its  canvas 
and  the  rude  workman's  bench  on  which  he  sat 
at  his  door — like  old  Caspar  at  Blenheim,  when 
his  long  day's  work  was  done — are  all  shown  to 
the  curious  visitor  with  an  interest  on  the  part 
of  the  custodian  which  shows  how  strong  and 
living  is  the  effect  of  Peter  the  Great's  personal- 
ity to-day. 

In  fact,  the  most  wonderful  object  seen  in  all 
Russia  was  this  famous  boat.  Whether  he 
obtained  those  wonderful  lines  of  bow  and  stern 
from  the  Dutch  boat-builders  at  Zaandam  or  the 
English  mechanics  at  the  dockyards  of  Deptford, 
it  is  difficult  to  find  out. 

The  long  sharp  cutter-like  lines  of  this  famous 
boat,  made  by  Peter's  own  hands,  are  a  lasting 
monument  to  his  wonderful  prevision  of  the  age 
which  was  to  come  afterward;  so  that,  while  with 
one  hand  this  famous  Czar  touched  the  old  Mus- 
covite world  and  life  of  Asia,  with  the  other  hand 
he  touched  the  marvellous  developments  of  the 
present  age  in  which  our  lot  is  cast. 

It  was  this  wonderful  dockyard  experience  of 
his  at  the  little  Dutch  town  of  Zaandam  which, 
after  all,  immortalizes  this  barbaric  Czar  and 
gives  him  a  place  in  the  hearts  of  all  young  and 
enthusiastic  readers  of  history,  as  they  remember 


36  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

that  pathetic  German  song  in  Lortzing's  Opera 
of  "  Czar  and  Zimmerman." 

"  Selig,  O  selig,  ein  Kind  noch  zu  sein !  " 


In  childhood  I  dallied  with  sceptre  and  crown, 

And  warred  with  my  playmates,  who  shrank  at  my  frown 

The  sword  from  its  scabbard  how  proudly' I  drew, 

Then  back  to  the  arms  of  my  father  I  flew, 

And  as  he  caressed  me — "  My  boy,"  thus  quoth  he, 

"  How  happy,  how  happy  a  child  still  to  be  ; 

How  happy,  how  happy  a  child  still  to  be  !  " 


In  manhood  I'm  wearing  that  crown  on  my  brow, 
The  weal  of  my  Russians  stamps  care  on  it  now ; 
In  peace  or  in  war  for  their  glory  I  strive, 
Though  little  they  love  me,  who  cause  them  to  thrive. 
In  purple  robes  shrouded,  all's  lonely  for  me — 
How  happy,  how  happy  a  child  still  to  be ! 


When  ended  each  struggle,  the  Czar's  life  has  flown, 

His  subjects  will  raise  him  a  tablet  of  stone  ; 

But  scarce  in  their  hearts  will  his  name  live  a  day, 

For  all  earthly  greatness  is  doomed  to  decay  ; 

Yet  Thou  sayest,  Almighty,  "  In  peace  come  to  Me  " — 

And  happy  in  heaven  Thy  child  shall  I  be  ! 

But  still  to  the  minds  of  these  tourists  in  St. 
Petersburg,  like  the  burden  of  the  prophets  of 
old,  there  hung  over  us  the  burden  of  our  mission 
to  Russia.  As  the  burden  of  Nineveh  pressed 


ST.  PETERSBURG,  37 

heavily  upon  the  soul  of  the  wayward  Jonah,  so 
the  burden  of  Tolstoi  pressed  down  our  keen  and 
inquisitive  spirits. 

We  who  had  started  forth  to  find  out  the  great 
prophet  of  the  Slavic  race,  ought  not  to  be  tri- 
fling away  our  time  amid  the  art  beauties  of  the 
Hermitage  or  the  historic  sights  of  St.  Peters- 
burg. So  it  came  to  pass  that  on  a  Friday  even- 
ing Mr.  Thackeray  and  the  writer  found  the.ir 
way  to  the  Marble  Palace,  with  their  letters  of 
introduction  from  their  friend  the  Russian  Count- 
ess in  Dresden. 

A  great  elegance,  in  gorgeous  red  and  yellow 
small  clothes  and  draperies,  who  was  found  after- 
wards designated  in  our  note-book  as  "  The 
Tiger  Lily  " — with  black  cockade  hat  and  silver 
mace,  ushered  us  into  the  interior  of  the  palace 
courtyard,  between  a  couple  of  grenadiers  armed 
with  muskets  and  bayonets,  while  another  ele- 
gance led  the  way  into  the  presence  of  the 
Countess,  who  was  lady-in-waiting  to  the  Grand 
Duchess  Constantine. 

In  the  presence  of  these  Russian  grenadiers 
Mr.  Thackeray  looked  as  if  his  last  hour  had 
come,  and  had  the  air  generally  of  a  Nihilist  spy 
about  to  be  led  to  immediate  execution.  But  a 
delightful  cup  of  tea  from  the  smoking  samovar 
in  the  boudoir  of  the  Countess  soon  revived  him  ; 
while  the  very  bright  and  sparkling  conversation 
of  the  gifted  Madame  Novikoff,  the  friend  of  the 


38  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

Countess,  soon  made  the  guests  feel  very  much  at 
home. 

Madame  Novikoff  is  the  sister  of  Lieutenant- 
General  Alexander  Kireff  (of  whom  mention  will 
be  made  later  on),  and  resides  a  part  of  the  year 
in  London,  where  she  has  written  a  number  of 
striking  works  on  Russia  and  the  Russian  situa- 
tion. 

She  has  written  the  books  entitled  "  England 
and  Russia,"  "  Skobeleff  and  the  Slavonic  Cause," 
and  a  number  of  war  articles  on  the  Russian 
campaigns  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  magazine. 
Her  norn-de-plume  in  these  recent  articles  is  "  O. 
K."  for  Olga  Kireff,  her  maiden  name  ;  and  when 
the  Countess  assured  us  that  Madame  Novikoff 
was  "  O.  K."  we  smiled  blandly  while  inwardly 
wondering  how  a  bit  of  American  schoolboy  slang 
ever  came  to  find  a  domicile  for  itself  in  the 
palace  of  a  Russian  Grand  Duke. 

Our  friend  the  Countess  K ,  assured  us  that 

the  Countess  Tolstoi  was  waiting  for  us  to  pre- 
sent ourselves  at  the  Winter  Palace,  and  reminded 
us  that  while  we  might  at  a  safe  distance  be 
enthusiastic  over  Count  Leo  Tolstoi,  there  was  a 
nearer  view  which  was  not  all  glitter,  since  after 
the  manner  of  a  one-sided  fanatic,  he  had  dared 
to  set  himself  against  society,  government,  and 
the  Holy  Orthodox  Eastern  Church. 

Upon  inquiring  when  we  could  best  see  the 
Countess  Tolstoi,  our  hostess  remarked  to 


MADAME  OLGA  NEVIKOFF, 
(the  Russian    War  Correspondent  "  O.  K.") 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  39 

Madame  Novikoff,  "  Let  me  see  ;  the  Emperor 
came  up  from  Gatchina  the  day  before  yesterday 
— well,  there  will  be  lunch  at  one  o'clock  to-mor- 
row— but  by  three  you  will  find  the  Countess  dis- 
engaged." 

This  sounded  just  as  if  it  was  Cousin  John 
who  had  come  up  from  Cape  Cod  to  Boston,  while 
it  occurred  to  us  that  we,  too,  came  up  from 
Gatchina  that  same  day.  But  as  our  thought  re- 
mained unexpressed  we  failed  to  receive  an  invi- 
tation to  meet  the  Czar — a  calamity  he  has  never 
dreamed  of  to  this  day. 

Pilley,  at  the  door,  covered  us  up  in  his  usual 
nurserymaid  manner  with  a  couple  of  shawls,  and 
gave  us  quite  another  view  of  the  literature  on 
Russia  and  the  distinguished  authoress  of  whom 
mention  has  been  made.  But,  as  Mr.  Pilley  has  a 
lucrative  position  at  present,  and  is  useful  to 
strangers  in  Russia,  we  refrain  from  quoting  his 
brief  but  impressive  remark. 

On  the  following  day  we  paid  our  respects  to 
the  Countess  Tolstoi  at  the  Winter  Palace.  This 
lady  was  most  kind  and  gracious  in  her  reception, 
and  gave  us  letters  to  the  Tolstoi  family  in  Mos- 
cow which  were  most  helpful.  Indeed  all  the 
letters  given  during  our  visit  to  Russia  were  a 
great  help  to  us  in  preparing  the  way,  step  by 
step,  for  the  far-off  object  of  our  search. 

The  servant  in  livery  ushered  us  into  a  cozy 
parlor,  where  a  fire  was  burning  on  the  hearth, 


40  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

and  where  we  discovered  the  Countess  Tolstoi  at 
work  with  a  lady  friend,  embroidering  an  immense 
sampler  which  was  rolled  over  a  long  cylinder,  so 
that  it  resembled  very  much  a  huge  musical  box 
or  orchestra  cylinder,  or  a  reel-  of  woolen  fabric 
just  from  the  loom. 

The  ubiquitous  samovar  upon  the  table  fur- 
nished us  our  indispensable  cup  of  tea,  without 
which,  in  Russia,  it  would  seem  that  no  conversa- 
tion can  be  attempted. 

Another  elegance  in  blue  daisies  and  white 
stockings,  similar  to  the  gentleman  already  de- 
scribed at  the  Marble  Palace,  served  us  at  lunch, 
so  that,  altogether,  it  seemed  very  much  like  a 
parish  call  or  a  lunch  preparatory  to  a  parish 
guild  or  parochial  fair. 

The  Countess  Tolstoi,  like  her  companions  in 
the  other  palace,  uttered  a  warning,  Cassandra- 
like  cry  of  regret  over  the  distinguished  object  of 
our  journey  to  Moscow.  "Ah!"  she  said,  "if 
Leo  would  only  let  his  reforms  alone  and  keep  to 
his  novels,  how  much  better  it  would  be  for  us 
all." 

This,  of  course,  was  her  sentiment  before  the 
publication  of  "  The  Kreutzer  Sonata  " — what  her 
views  upon  the  subject  may  be  now  we  cannot,  of 
course,  know. 

As  we  met  the  faithful,  but  unsearchable  and 
inscrutable  Pilley  at  the  door,  he  remarked, 
"  Stretch  your  necks,  gentlemen, — look  up  the 


ST.  PETERSBURG.  41 

staircase  !  That  is  the  Grand  Duke  Vladimir, 
brother  of  the  Czar,  he  is  going  to  a  state  dinner 
at  the  Winter  Palace — the  Czar  is  upstairs  on  the 
second  landing." 

But  even  this  hint  to  the  Grand  Duke  Vladimir 
failed  to  secure  for  us  an  invitation  to  the  impe- 
*rial  dinner  party — and  so  we  returned  to  the 
Hotel  de  Europe,  to  the  lonely  and  envious  Lord 
Byron,  who  had  been  playing  the  part  of  Cinder- 
ella, left  by  her  more  fortunate  sister,  who  had 
gone  to  the  ball. 

We  told  him  of  our  American  republican  sim- 
plicity, like  that  of  Franklin  at  the  court  of 
Versailles,  and  how  we  had  enjoyed  ourselves  at 
the  lunch  so  kindly  given,  but  we  refrained  from 
communicating  the  fact  that  Mr.  Pilley's  hint 
made  no  effect  upon  the  mind  of  Vladimir,  as  he 
ascended  the  staircase  of  the  famous  Winter 
Palace. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  WINTER  PALACE  AND  THE  HERMITAGE. 

THE  two  great  sights  of  St.  Petersburg  are  the 
Winter  Palace  and  the  Hermitage.  There  are 
churches  and  statues  and  columns  and  palaces 
and  shrines  and  monasteries  at  every  turn  ;  but 
the  Winter  Palace  and  the  Hermitage  are,  after 
all,  the  two  most  important  objects  of  interest  in 
the  great  capital  of  Russia. 

We  were  dragooned  through  these  two  buildings 
under  the  marching  orders  of  Mr.  James  Pilley  ; 
the  two  cardinal  doctrines  which  have  been 
preached  by  Tolstoi,  of  passive  obedience  and 
non-resistance,  being  the  foundation  truths  of  all 
peaceful  relationship  with  our  omniscient  guide 
and  all-powerful  dictator. 

And  now  while  Pilley  is  securing  the  droskies 
in  which  to  carry  these  visitors  to  the  palace  and 
the  museum,  let  a  word  or  two  of  description  be 
given,  and  let  it  be  in  the  words  of  one  whose 
graphic  pen  has  made  Palatial  Petersburg  familiar 
to  our  American  magazine  readers. 

"  The  initiative  of  the  Russians  in  art  and  in 
civilization  is  limited.  Hitherto  they  have  dis- 
played greater  aptitude  for  copying  than  for  orig- 


WINTER  PALACE  AND  HERMITAGE.         43 

inal  conception,  and  even  for  their  copies  they 
have  had  recourse  to  Western  artists,  particularly 
to  Italian  architects  like  Quarenghi,  Rossi,  and 
Count  Rastrelli.  The  last  is  responsible  both  for 
the  outside  and  the  inside  of  the  Winter  Palace. 
This  enormous  structure  was  begun  in  1732, 
finished  in  1762,  partly  burned  in  1837,  but  rebuilt 
in  1839  from  the  original  drawings.  It  is  a  broad 
rectangular  block,  four  stories,  or  about  eighty 
feet  high,  with  a  frontage  455  feet  in  length  and  a 
breadth  of  350  feet,  one  fagade  parallel  with  the 
Neva,  another  looking  toward  the  Admiralty, 
the  third  facing  the  vast  Alexander  Place,  and  the 
fourth  (blind)  fagade  backing  up  to  the  adjoining 
Hermitage  Palace,  with  which  it  communicates 
by  means  of  a  covered  bridge. 

"  The  proportions  of  this  palace  are  not  com- 
mendable ;  the  style  of  architecture  is  very  bom- 
bastic rococo  ;  the  decoration  is  overcharged  with 
statues,  caryatides,  flower-pots,  grenades,  and 
trumpery  accessories.  The  cheap  stucco  surface 
of  its  facades — mercilessly  broken  up  by  pilasters, 
water-spouts,  and  windows,  so  that  the  eye  no- 
where finds  repose — is  washed  with  a  brownish 
red,  terra-cotta  color,  picked  out  with  a  lighter 
tone  of  yellow.  The  iron  roof  is  painted  red. 

"  The  outside  of  this  palace  is  absolutely  with- 
out charm  or  merit  of  any  kind,  its  only  claim  to 
notice  is  its  immensity,  which,  by  the  way,  accord- 
ing to  Russian  notions,  is  a  very  considerable  claim. 


44  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSSA. 

"  The  interior  is  a  saddening  example  of  the 
bad  taste  which  seems  to  characterize  crowned 
heads  of  all  nations,  whether  the  Russian  Czar, 
the  Turkish  Sultan,  the  German  Emperor,  or 
the  British  sovereign.  The  ornamentation  is  for 
the  most  part  in  rampageous  rocaille  style,  bright 
burnished  gold  on  whitewash,  or  imitation  white 
marble. 

"  Our  pen  absolutely  refuses  to  describe  the 
sham  splendor  of  the  imperial  apartments,  with 
their  modern  French  polished  furniture  and  vile 
wood-carving,  their  massive  screens  glazed  with 
purple  glass,  their  wall-hangings  of  yellow  and 
white,  or  rose  and  green  satin.  The  malachite 
room,  the  Pompeiian  room,  the  Mauresque  bath- 
room, likewise  failed  to  transport  us  with  admira- 
tion. 

"  The  corner  that  pleased  us  best  was  Peter  the 
Great's  throne-room,  whose  walls  were  hung  with 
soft,  red  velvet,  embroidered  with  golden  eagles. 
The  St.  George's  Hall,  a  parallelogram,  140  feet 
by  60  feet,  adorned  with  Corinthian  columns  of  real 
white  marble,  with  gilt  bases  and  capitals,  is  also 
a  fine  room,  perhaps  the  finest  in  the  whole  palace. 
The  White  Hall,  the  Golden  Hall,  and  the  Nicholas 
Hall  are  chillingly  white  show-rooms,  which 
require  the  animation  of  the  court  ceremonies  and 
balls  and  the  glitter  of  lights  and  diamonds,  in 
order  to  give  them  a  picturesque  interest. 

"  Finally  we  may  notice   the  state   entrance  to 


WINTER  PALACE  AND  HERMITAGE.         45 

the  palace  from  the  Neva  Quay,  called  the  Am- 
bassadors' Stairs,  of  white  Carrara  marble,  and 
the  vestibule,  richly  decorated  and  gilded  with 
Renaissance  ornaments  and  statuary.  This  stair- 
case and  the  St.  George's  Hall  are  the  only  two 
parts  of  the  Winter  Palace  that  present  an  aspect 
of  real  grandeur  and  majesty. 

"  The  adjoining  Palace  of  the  Hermitage,  like- 
wise of  stucco,  colored  in  two  shades  of  cafe-au- 
lait,  was  built  between  1840  and  1850  by  a  Munich 
architect,  Leopold  von  Klenze,  in  a  sort  of  Greek 
style. 

"  It  forms  an  immense  parallelogram,  512  feet 
by  375  feet,  with  two  large  courts.  One  main 
fa£ade  fronts  along  the  street  called  the  Million- 
naja,  where  is  the  entrance,  under  an  imposing 
vestibule,  supported  by  ten  colossal  Atlas  figures, 
twenty-two  feet  high,  carved  out  of  dark  gray 
granite.  In  niches  along  this  fa£ade,  which  is 
colored  to  imitate  stone,  are  statues  of  eminent 
artists,  cast  in  zinc,  to  imitate  bronze. 

"  Entering  the  palace,  we  find  ourselves  in  a 
noble  hall,  the  roof  of  which  is  supported  by  six- 
teen monolithic  columns  of  Finland  granite,  ter- 
minating in  capitals  of  Carrara  marble.  The  stairs, 
in  three  flights,  are  of  real  marble,  but  the  walls 
on  either  side  are  of  yellow  imitation  marble. 

"  The  rooms  of  the  Hermitage  in  which  the 
pictures  and  other  collections  are  lodged,  are  for 
the  most  part  sumptuously  decorated  and  adorned 


46  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

with  gigantic  candelabra,  vases  and  tables  of 
malachite,  porphyry,  or  jasper,  and  many  splendid 
pieces  of  French  furniture  of  the  eighteenth 
century."* 

In  the  matter  of  art  treasures,  some  of  the  most 
interesting  and  attractive  objects  in  the  Winter 
Palace  were  as  follows  :  the  emperor's  great 
jubilee  room  ;  the  dining-room  where  the  famous 
bomb  explosion  took  place  ;  the  malachite  draw- 
ing-room ;  the  cabinet  of  the  Emperor  Nicholas 
I.,  like  that  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  at  Abbotsford  ; 
the  stairway  up  to  the  Nicholas  Hall,  of  which 
Mr.  Pilley  remarked  "  Look  at  it,  gentlemen, 
look  at  it  !  the  greatest  stairway  in  Europe — 
nothing  on  earth  to  touch  it,  gentlemen  !  " 

Then  follows  the  St.  George's  Hall,  the  famous 
Throne  Room  and  the  Memorabilia  of  Russia's  two 
illustrious  Czars — Peter  the  Great  and  Nicholas  I. 

The  iron  death-bed  of  Nicholas  I.,  when  he 
returned  from  the  Crimea  a  broken-hearted  man, 
is  a  striking  souvenir,  resembling,  as  it  does,  the 
small  iron  bedstead  on  which  Napoleon  I.  died  at 
St.  Helena.  The  room  where  the  late  Emperor 
died  after  the  explosion  ;  the  dying  bed-chamber 
of  the  Empress  ;  the  broken  bits  of  furniture  in 
the  doomed  dining-room  and  the  shattered  car- 
riage of  Alexander  II.  are  striking  and  suggestive 
objects  of  interest,  showing  as  they  do  the  thorny 

*  "  Palatial  Petersburg,"  by  Theodore  Child,  Harpers  Magazine, 
July,  1889. 


WINTER  PALACE  AND  HERMITAGE.         47 

path  of  the  crowned  and  kingly  Russian  autocrats. 
The  impression  left  upon  the  tired  brain,  after 
a  day  spent  among  the  art  treasures  of  the 
Hermitage,  is  that  of  the  wild  phantasmagoria  of 
an  ever-changing  kaleidoscope. 

We  have  had  a  glimpse  of  Russian  art  in  the 
wonderful  collection  of  the  painter  Vasseli  Ver- 
estchagin,  and  the  teaching  by  his  brush  in  the 
pictures  of  the  "  Siege  of  Plevna,"  "  After  the 
Battle,"  "  Jesus  on  the  Lake  of  Gennesaret,"  and 
"The  Execution  of  the  Nihilists,"  is  as  powerful 
in  its  way  as  Tolstoi's  preaching  is  by  pen.* 

*  Since  writing  the  above,  the  following  letter  from  Count  Tolstoi's 
daughter  has  been  received,  which  shows  the  religious  development 
of  the  latest  Russian  art. 

YASNAYA  POLIANA,  June  n,  1800. 

DEAR  MR.  NEWTON  :  My  father  thanks  you  very  much  for  send- 
ing yours  and  your  brother's  excellent  books,  which  he  has  read  with 
great  pleasure.  He  now  begs  a  favor  of  you,  which  he  hopes  you  will 
grant  him.  At  the  picture  exhibition  of  this  year  in  St.  Petersburg, 
there  has  been  exposed  a  work  of  one  of  our  renowned  professors  of 
painting.  Mr.  Gay,  a  friend  of  my  father's  and  also  a  fellow-believer 
of  his.  One  of  his — Mr.  Gay's — early  pictures,  "  The  Last  Supper," 
produced  a  great  sensation,  not  only  in  Russia,  but  also  in  Europe. 
The  subject  of  this  new  picture  is  "  Christ  Before  Pilate,"  or  "  What 
is  Truth?"  The  picture  excited  quite  contradictory  feelings  of 
applause  and  denigration,  and  was  taken  off  the  exhibition  by  the 
authorities.  The  chief  value  of  the  picture  consists  in  its  quite  new 
realistic  and  deeply  religious  understanding  of  Christ's  personality. 
This  picture  is  now  being  taken  to  America.  My  father  thinks  that 
the  American  public  is  more  able  than  any  other  to  judge  and  appre- 
ciate the  merit  of  it.  My  father  hopes  that  you  will  not  refuse  to 
explain  to  the  public  the  meaning  and  the  importance  of  the  picture. 
He  thinks  that  by  its  deep  religious  truth,  this  picture  of  Mr.  Gay's 
can  serve  the  aim  which  you  pursue,  of  uniting  in  one  all  the  different 
Christian  confessions. 

Believe  me,  sir.  yours  truly, 

TATIANA  TOLSTOI. 


48  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

But  the  Hermitage  is  an  ever  increasing  won- 
der as  one  goes  deeper  and  deeper  in.  Arvazof- 
sky's  painting  of  "  Sunset  on  the  Black  Sea  "  is  a 
picture  which  can  never  be  effaced  from  the 
mind.  His  painting  of  "  The  Deluge  "  is  wild 
and  awful,  but  not  so  impressive  as  the  former 
picture.  "  The  Creation  of  the  World "  is 
another  of  his  remarkable  efforts.  "  The 
Nymphs  in  Water,"  by  Neff,  is  remarkable  for  its 
flesh-tints.  "  The  Brazen  Serpent,"  by  Bruni, 
and  "  The  Last  Day  of  Pompeii  "  are  also  strik- 
ing and  important  specimens  of  the  Russian 
School. 

But  Mr.  James  Pilley  preferred  the  classical 
pictures  of  the  old  masters  to  these  new  Russian 
paintings,  and  so  we  were  hurried  along  "  stretch- 
ing our  necks  "  and  "  looking  at  this  "  and  "  look- 
ing at  that,"  with  the  oft-repeated  reminder 
snapping  in  our  ears  like  the  crack  of  the  whip  in 
the  ears  of  a  blinded  and  obstinate  mule,  "  Noth- 
ing in  Europe  to  touch  it — nothing,  gentlemen  ! 
Look  at  it  !  LOOK  AT  IT  !  "  This  second  com- 
mand being  always  given  with  tremendous  and 
Czar-like  emphasis. 

"  Twenty-four  Murillos,  gentlemen — think  of  it 
— twenty-four  in  one  collection  !  " 

"Statue  of  Nicholas  I. — handsomest  man  in  all 
Europe.  Nothing  to  touch  him,  gentlemen  !  A 
Van  Dyck — look  at  it.  Hangels  and  Hinglish 
partridges — hangels  in  the  foreground,  partridges 


WINTER  PALACE  AND  HERMITAGE.         49 

on  the  fly.  '  Dead  Boy  and  Dolphin/  by  Ralph- 
fyal — only  sculpture  he  ever  made.  Look  'ere 
sir,  close  by  this  'ot  hair  flue,  'ere  you  have  six 
Rembrandts  !  Look  at  this  one,  sir — Flemish 
hangels  a-flopping ;  "  this  being  the  interpreta- 
tion of  a  picture  by  Rembrandt  of  some  angels, 
with  distinctly  Flemish  faces,  engaged  at  prayer. 

But  enough.  Here  were  Steens,  and  Snyders, 
and  Guido  Reni's,  and  Teniers,  and  Paul  Potter, 
and  Quentin  Matsys,  and  Titian,  and  Domeni- 
chino,  and  Wouverman,  with  his  delightful  and 
executive  war  pictures,  in  every  one  of  which  was 
found  the  irrepressible  white  horse  on  a  gallop, 
and  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  and  Raphael,  and  Fra 
Angelico,  and  Correggio,  and  Luti's  famous 
"  Flageolet  Boy,"  and  Michael  Angelo's  "  Tour  de 
Force." 

Lord  Byron  wanted  to  be  put  to  bed  on  arriv- 
ing at  the  hotel,  while  Mr.  Thackeray  vainly 
strove  to  write  out  in  his  diary  his  impressions  of 
the  Winter  Palace  and  the  Hermitage. 

"  One  more  such  victory  and  we  are  undone  !  " 
remarked  Lord  Byron. 

"  I  hope  you  are  satisfied,"  inquired  James 
Pilley. 

"Oh,  more  than  satisfied!"  replied  all  three 
in  a  breath,  "  but  no  more  sight-seeing  for 
twenty-four  hours,  Mr.  Pilley." 

Hereupon  Pilley  descended  in  the  elevator  and 
was  found  among  the  dientsmen  in  the  hotel 


50  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

lobby,  sleeping  sideways  on  his  chair  like  a  fat 
sleek  seal  on  a  cool  and  congenial  iceberg. 

NOTE  TO  CHAPTER  III. 

It  was  the  intention  of  the  writer  to  include  in  the  present 
chapter  a  brief  account  of  Russian  Art  and  Artists,  as  sug- 
gested by  the  pictures  in  the  Hermitage  collection  of  the 
Russian  artists  there.  But  there  is  no  such  definite  and 
technical  thing  as  Russian  Art,  and  the  history  of  Russian 
Art  is  only,  after  all,  the  history  of  the  individual  artists  who 
have  from  time  to  time  appeared  upon  the  stage  of  history. 

Vasseli  Verestchagm's  pictures,  as  exhibited  in  our  Ameri- 
can cities,  with  his  descriptions  and  his  essays  on  realism, 
have  made  the  public  familiar  with  this  great  apostle  of 
realistic  art,  and  any  further  description  of  these  now  familiar 
works  of  art  is  therefore  omitted  from  this  story  of  a  "  Run 
Through  Russia." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SUNDAY    IN    ST.    PETERSBURG. 

THE  interesting  events  of  Saturday  evening  at 
the  Winter  Palace  were  forgotten  by  the  trav- 
ellers upon  the  next  day,  which  proved  to  be 
a  bright  and  auspicious  Sunday,  bringing  with  it, 
even  in  the  crowded  streets  of  St.  Petersburg, 
that  distinctly  Sunday  feeling  which  always  hems 
in  the  life  of  those  who  have  kept  Sunday  in  the 
past.  There  is  a  distinctly  Saturday  feeling  and 
a  distinctly  Sunday  feeling  and  a  distinctly  Mon- 
day feeling,  go  where  we  will  and  stay  where  we 
may.  It  is  the  influence  of  the  past  life  making 
itself  felt  in  the  life  of  the  present,  whatever  the 
present  may  be. 

On  this  beautiful  Sunday  in  St.  Petersburg, 
church  after  church  was  visited.  Along  the 
Nevskoi  Prospekt,  and  under  the  somewhat  sub- 
dued guidance  of  the  ever  adequate  Pilley,  a 
famous  monastery  was  visited,  with  its  chapels 
and  attending  houses  making  quite  a  village  in 
itself  ;  while  through  the  corridors  of  this  building 
and  along  the  walks  of  its  consecrated  gardens, 
groups  of  monks  of  all  ages  could  be  seen.  Sun- 
day also  brought  us  to  the  celebrated  convent  of 


52  A  RUAT  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

the  Cistercians,  situated  upon  a  street  where 
the  famous  Russian  abattoir  is  built,  which, 
with  its  bison's  horns  as  a  sign  over  the  entrance, 
strangely  reminded  us  of  a  similar  place  in 
the  city  of  Chicago.  Back  to  the  Cathedral  of 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  along  the  Nevskoi  Pros- 
pekt,  near  the  Admiralty  spire  and  gardens,  into 
the  Smolni  Cathedral,  to  the  chapel  building  upon 
the  spot  where  the  late  Emperor  received  his 
death-wound,  into  the  magnificent  spaciousness 
of  St.  Isaac's  Cathedral,  and  into  the  grand  inte- 
rior of  Our  Lady  of  Kazan,  these  travellers 
threaded  their  way  like  the  detectives  of  Wilkie 
Collins'  story,  who  mingled  with  the  busy  throngs 
in  the  great  cities  of  Europe,  that  they  might 
bring  back  again  to  their  temple  the  precious 
moonstone  which  had  been  stolen  and  the  fetich 
they  were  set  to  guard.  St.  Isaac's  Church  is  the 
grandest  temple  in  St.  Petersburg.  It  was  begun 
about  the  year  1820  and  finished  in  1860.  Great 
simplicity  marks  this  cathedral,  which  is  built 
upon  the  model  of  a  Greek  cross.  The  cathedral 
of  Our  Lady  of  Kazan  in  the  Nevskoi  Prospekt  is 
the  second  cathedral  in  St.  Petersburg.  Leading 
up  to  it  on  either  side  is  a  colonnade  formed  of 
136  Corinthian  columns,  said  to  have  been  built 
after  the  model  of  the  famous  colonnade  at  St. 
Peter's  at  Rome.  The  famous  56  monoliths  in 
the  interior  of  this  cathedral,  of  Finland  granite, 
36  feet  high,  together  with  the  flags  wrested  from 


SUNDA  Y  IN  ST.  PE TERSE UR G.  53 

the  Turks  in  many  battle-fields,  and  the  keys  of 
Polish  fortresses,  make  the  interior  peculiarly  in- 
teresting. Over  every  Russian  place  of  worship, 
and  crowning  the  subdued  murmur  of  the  prayers 
of  the  worshippers,  there  rise  at  rhythmic  inter- 
vals the  rich  and  mellifluous  voices  of  the  male 
singers,  who  are  unaccompanied  by  organ  or  any 
instrument  of  music.  Strangely  effective  are  the 
minor  cadences  of  these  mixed  choirs  of  men  and 
boys,  inclining  every  now  and  then  to  the  low 
wail  of  Eastern  and  barbaric  people.  Like  a  rich 
resonont  echo  again  and  again  from  the  sanctuary 
at  St.  Isaac's  and  at  Our  Lady  of  Kazan,  that  day 
we  heard  coming  to  us,  borne  over  that  flood  of 
many  voices  the  old  but  by  this  time  familiar 
refrain — "  Gospidi  Pomilon,  Gospidi  Pomilon  " — 
"  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us."  *  The  prostrations 
on  the  floor,  the  incessant  genuflections,  the  kiss- 
ing of  the  icons  and  the  lifting-up  of  little  chil- 
dren all  over  the  church  to  kiss  these  sacred 
pictures  and  to  see  the  priests  in  the  distance, 
the  handing  of  lighted  tapers  from  those  in  the 
rear  of  the  assemblage  to  their  friends  who  were 
nearer  the  great  candelabra,  the  rich  voices  of  the 
priests  who  seemed  by  the  sequence  of  their  tones 
to  be  going  through  a  never-ending  liturgy, — 

*  "  As  Eastern  Christians  will  recite  the  '  Kyrie  Eleison,'  the  '  Gos- 
pidi Pomilon' in  a  hundred-fold  repetition  .  .  .  so  the  four  hundred 
and  fifty  prophets  of  Baal  performed  their  wild  dances  round  their 
altar.' — DEAN  STANLEY,  "History  of  the  Jewish  Church"  second  se- 
ries, page  333. 


54  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

are  elements  which  make  the  Russian  place  of 
worship  something  that  can  never  be  forgotten 
through  all  after-time. 

When  the  morning's  work  was  over,  the  writer 
and  Mr.  Thackeray  entered  the  one  Roman  Cath- 
olic church  in  St.  Petersburg,  situated  not  far 
from  the  Hotel  de  Europe  upon  the  Nevskoi 
Prospekt.  It  is  strange  to  think  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  as  being  a  dissenter  in  Russia,  where 
this  Church  holds  its  place  among  the  other 
churches  only  on  suffrance,  so  long  as  its  preach- 
ing is  in  no  wise  aggressive  towards  the  Holy 
Orthodox  Eastern  Church.  When  we  entered 
this  Roman  Catholic  church  we  found  a  tonsured 
friar  preaching  from  the  mediaeval  pulpit  with  a 
warmth  and  fire  which  seemed  truly  Western  and 
familiar.  The  foolishness  of  preaching  never 
seemed  such  wisdom  as  it  did  upon  that  memora- 
ble Sunday  at  St.  Petersburg,  when  throughout 
the  entire  length  and  breadth  of  the  Russian 
churches  in  that  great  metropolis  not  a  sound  or 
word  of  preaching  was  heard.  Mr.  Thackeray 
and  his  companion  glowed  inwardly  upon  hearing 
the  voice  of  a  preacher  again,  and  felt  with 
Simon  Peter  on  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration, 
that  it  was  indeed  good  for  them  to  be  there. 

It  is  very  evident  to  any  who  look  deeply  into 
this  subject,  that  the  upper  classes  in  Russia  have 
a  conventional  faith  in  the  Christian  religion,  and 
look  upon  the  Church  and  clergy  as  an  arm  of 


SUNDA  Y  IN  ST.  PE  TERSE  UR G.  5  5 

power,  side  by  side  with  the  army  and  the  secret 
police,  which  must  in  any  wise  be  maintained. 
Nothing  stronger  with  reference  to  the  religious 
life  of  Russia  has  ever  been  written  than  Air.  W. 
T.  Stead's  book  entitled  "Truth  about  Russia." 
For  any  who  would  like  to  pursue  this  line 
of  thought,  his  fourth  chapter,  entitled  "  The 
Tribune  of  all  the  Russias,"  is  commended  as 
containing  a  fund  of  information  upon  this  sub- 
ject. In  one  place  in  this  interesting  book  he 
says  : 

"  •  The  first  dogma  of  the  Christian  religion,' 
said  Count  Tolstoi  to  me  as  we  walked  along  the 
chaussee  that  leads  from  Toula  to  KielY,  '  is  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  For  nine  hundred  years 
our  Church  has  had  the  peasantry  absolutely  in 
her  own  hands  ;  and  how  many  of  the  peasants 
do  you  think  have  any  notion  of  what  the  Trinity 
is  ? '  I  did  not  venture  to  guess.  The  Eastern 
Church  lays  great  stress  upon  the  dogma  of  the 
Trinity — a  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  precise 
origin  of  the  third  person  of  the  Trinity  being  an 
insurmountable  obstacle  in  the  way  of  the  re- 
union of  Christendom.  If  the  Church  had  been  a 
living,  teaching  force,  instead  of  being  a  more  or 
less  automatic  performer  of  ceremonies,  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity  would  have  been  mastered  by 
every  peasant  ;  for  it  is  the  special  boast  of  the 
dominant  school  that  there  are  no  confessionslose 
people  in  Russia.  Every  Orthodox  must  take  the 


56  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

Communion  at  least  once  a  year.  No-  one  can 
get  married  without  going  to  Confession  and  to 
Mass.  Judge,  then,  my  surprise  when  Count 
Tolstoi  continued,  '  Not  one  peasant  in  ten — I 
sometimes  think,  not  one  in  a  hundred — has  the 
least  idea  of  what  the  Church's  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity  is.  I  have  asked  them  over  and  over 
again,  and  they  usually  give  very  extraordinary 
answers.  I  must  have  questioned  some  hundreds 
of  pilgrims  as  to  their  idea  of  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity,  and  of  these  hundreds  I  do  not  re- 
member six  who  could  even  name  the  persons  of 
the  Trinity.  As  a  rule,  they  say  that  the  Trinity 
consists  of  Jesus,  the  Virgin,  and  St.  Nicholas. 
But  we  will  ask  the  next  pilgrim  whom  we  meet, 
and  you  shall  hear  for  yourself.' 

"  We  had  not  long  to  wait.  Seated  on  a  little 
knoll  by  the  side  of  the  road  there  were  three  or 
four  pilgrims.  Two  of  them  seemed  mere  tramps, 
but  a  mother  and  son  were  much  above  the  aver- 
age, and  to  her  Count  Tolstoi  addressed  himself. 
She  said  she  was  on  the  road  to  Kieff  ;  her  son 
had  fallen  into  the  river,  and  had  been  rescued 
from  drowning.  In  gratitude  to  God  she  had 
vowed  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  Kieff  with  her  boy, 
and  she  was  on  her  way  thither.  She  was  there- 
fore a  good  pilgrim,  not  a  mere  tramp,  but  one 
who  was  fulfilling  a  religious  duty.  But  when 
asked  about  the  Trinity  she  replied,  '  Oh  yes,  I 
know  all  about  the  Trinity ;  there  were  three 


SUNDA  Y  IN  S  T.  PE  TEKSB  UK  G.  57 

brothers  who  were  thrust  into  a  cave  and  set  on 
fire,  and  in  the  fire  Jesus  came  and  walked  with 
them.  I  have  read  all  about  it  in  the  Gospel  ; ' 
and  she  was  going  off  into  fresh  detail  when  the 
Count  stopped  her.  '  There/ said  he,  'you  have 
a  fair  sample  ;  she  thinks  the  three  Hebrew 
children  were  the  Trinity.  That  is  the  net  result 
of  nine  hundred  years  of  dogmatic  teaching  by  a 
Church  which  has  had  exclusive  possession  of  the 
field.'  .  .  . 

"  The  best  thing  that  could  happen  to  Russia — 
better  even  than  the  sudden  determination  of  the 
Emperor  to  shake  off  the  trammels  of  his  entour- 
age, and  to  appear  among  his  subjects  as  a  hard- 
riding  Tzar,  determined  to  see  with  his  own  eyes, 
and  hear  with  his  own  ears,  all  that  is  going  on 
in  his  dominions — would  be  a  great  spiritual  re- 
vival within  the  Eastern  Church.  Here  and 
there  the  earnest  voice  of  an  eloquent  priest  is 
heard,  amidst  the  monotonous  chant  of  the  un- 
ending liturgies,  pleading  for  a  religious  life  that 
will  be  other  than  merely  formal  ;  but  for  the 
most  part  these  voices  find  no  echo,  and  some- 
times, if  the  accent  is  at  all  strange,  the  preacher 
is  silenced  altogether.  The  Church,  with  its 
ecclesiastics,  does  not,  as  a  rule,  concern  itself 
about  the  mundane  affairs  of  this  life.  The 
Service  of  Man  (save  as  an  immortal  spirit  whose 
blessedness  hereafter  can  best  be  secured  by  the 
recitation  of  a  certain  number  of  creeds,  and  the 


58  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

performance  of  ceremonies)  is  a  matter  which  it 
regards  too  often  as  beneath  its  notice.  I  do  not 
say — it  would  be  a  monstrous  and  wicked  exag- 
geration to  say — that  a  great  spiritual  apparatus, 
designed  to  furnish  these  millions  with  the  Water 
of  Life,  has  gone  utterly  to  rust  and  ruin.  It  has 
reared,  and  still  rears,  saints  holy  and  noble  as 
are  to  be  found  in  any  Church  ;  but  regarded 
solely  from  a  mundane  point  of  view,  and  looked 
at  with  the  eye  of  a  purely  secular  person,  who 
can  only  judge  of  religious  systems  by  the  extent 
to  which  they  minister  to  the  wants,  stimulate 
the  consciences  and  satisfy  the  intellectual  needs 
of  men,  the  Russian  Church  stands  sorely  in  need 
of  whatever  impetus  can  be  given  to  it  from  with- 
out. I  do  not  suppose  that  any  foreign  church 
can  ever  make  much  headway  in  Russia  ;  the 
national  spirit  is  too  strong;  the  instinct  and  tra- 
ditions of  centuries  are  too  deeply  rooted. 
Neither  can  anyone  wish  to  see  the  Eastern 
Church  torn  by  divisions  such  as  those  which 
have  rent  the  Western  Church  in  twain.  But 
until  Russia  has  a  priest  in  every  village  who  is 
intelligent,  pious,  and  sober,  and  a  Church  which 
recognizes  that  its  duty  is  to  minister  to  the 
daily  wants  and  daily  needs  of  humanity,  and  not 
merely  to  say  Masses  for  our  souls  hereafter — is 
it  not  suicidal  folly  to  close  the  door  to  the  widest 
possible  influx  of  other  forms  of  Christian  faith  ? 
Instead  of  vetoing  propaganda,  even  of  mistaken 


SUNDA  Y  IN  ST.  PE  TERSE  UR G.  59 

creeds,  would  it  not  be  better  to  welcome  it  as  the 
most  efficacious  way  by  which  the  Orthodox  can 
be  roused  to  make  a  counter-propaganda  ?  Bet- 
ter schism  than  sleep  ;  better  divisions  than 
death.  And  the  best  and  the  simplest  remedy 
against  somnolence  and  paralysis  in  religion,  as  in 
business,  is  free  and  open  competition." 

Further  on  in  this  book,  in  speaking  about  the 
tyranny  of  Pobedonestzeff,  the  procurator  of  the 
Russian  synod,  he  says  : 

"  Against  the  Catholic  Poles,  against  the  Ger- 
man Lutherans,  M.  Pobedonestzeff  may  wage  war 
with  some  plausible  semblance  of  justification. 
But  against  the  Stundists,  against  the  Molokani, 
against  the  Pashkoffski,  against  the  Evangelicals 
of  every  shade,  only  the  incorrigible  perversity  of 
the  persecutor  can  find  a  pretext  for  prosecuting 
a  campaign  of  extermination.  '  This  is  a  matter 
far  more  serious  for  the  Power  that  persecutes 
than  it  is  for  the  remnant  who  are  persecuted. 
Now,  as  of  old,  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the 
seed  of  the  Church.  To-day,  as  yesterday,  suffer- 
ing alone  gives  the  true  faith — the  key  by  which 
it  can  unlock  the  hearts  of  men.  It  must  needs 
be  that  offences  come,  but  it  is  not  unto  those  by 
whom  they  come.  When  Colonel  Pashkoff  and 
Count  Korff  were  exiled,  they  addressed  a  letter 
to  the  Emperor,  in  which  this  truth  is  set  forth 
with  much  fidelity.  They  say  : 

"'The     Lord's    work    in    Russia  will    not   be 


60  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

hindered  or  stopped  by  our  exile.  What  are,  in 
such  a  work,  two  persons  like  us  ?  The  Lord  has 
many  servants  who  willingly  follow  His  com- 
mands, and  who  are  endowed  more  than  we  with 
power  and  authority  from  Him.  We  are  punished 
innocently,  but  the  Kingdom  of  God  will  grow 
with  still  more  power  than  before,  for  your  good, 
Sire,  and  for  the  good  of  our  dear  country.  Our 
undeserved  exile  will  serve  to  consolidate  this 
work.  Such  an  order  from  your  government  has 
afflicted  all  the  followers  of  Christ,  but  it  has  also 
stimulated  their  zeal.  The  persecution,  not  only 
of  us,  but  also  of  books  written  with  the  sole  ob- 
ject of  giving  men  to  understand  the  love  of  Christ 
which  passes  our  understanding — books  which 
are  permitted  by  the  Censure,  and  by  Pobedonest- 
zeff  himself  allowed  to  be  spread  abroad,  when,  in 
the  year  1880,  they  were  seized  in  Nijni  by  Count 
Ignatieff — such  a  persecution  puts  upon  all  the 
servants  of  the  Lord  the  duty  of  propagating 
orally  the  knowledge  of  Christ  more  than  they 
did  before.  They  try  to  persuade  your  Imperial 
Majesty  that  the  so-called  Evangelical  Sectarians 
and  Baptists  are  apostates  who  deny  their  native 
land  and  people,  who  separate  themselves  from 
everything  Russian,  who  are  rebels  against  the 
supreme  authority,  and  are  advocates  of  the  uni- 
versal levelling  of  ranks.  Allow  us,  Sire,  to  tell 
you  positively  that  such  an  opinion  about  them  is 
unjust.  They  are  as  much  children  of  Russia  as 


SUNDA  Y  IN  S T.  PR  TERSE  UKG.  6 1 

the  Orthodox  ones  ;  they  love  you  as  much  as 
those  do ;  they  submit  to  the  Tzar,  not  from  fear, 
but  for  conscience's  sake  and  from  the  desire  to 
fulfil  the  will  of  God.  Sire,  allow  us,  your  loyal 
subjects,  who  love  you  with  the  love  of  Christ,  and 
who  pray  for  you  and  for  Russia,  to  implore  you 
in  the  name  of  Christ  :  grant  to  Russia  the  su- 
preme good  which  is  in  your  power  ;  make  it  law- 
ful for  every  one  to  profess  openly,  and  without 
hindrance,  the  hope  in  the  Lord  :  recognize  for 
us  the  right  to  believe  as  our  conscience  directs 
us  ;  blot  out  all  the  punishments  which  are  in- 
flicted, equally  with  thieves  and  murderers,  upon 
us  who,  for  conscience's  sake,  leave  the  Orthodox 
Church  ;  and  then  the  blessing  of  the  Lord,  which 
is  the  most  precious  thing  in  the  world,  will  be 
poured  upon  you,  Sire,  upon  your  Imperial  family, 
and  upon  all  Russia.' 

"  To  that  prayer  no  answer  has  yet  been  re- 
turned. The  Orthodox  seem  to  be  in  fear  for  the 
Church  of  the  Living  God  if  the  Ispravnik  is  not 
ready  with  pains  and  penalties  for  those  who,  for 
conscience's  sake,  leave  the  Orthodox  Church. 

"  For  all  such  timorous  ones,  alike  those  who 
persecute  from  fear  and  those  who  dread  lest 
that  persecution  may  extinguish  '  the  spark  of 
God '  in  the  Russian  Empire,  I  will  conclude  with 
a  little  apologue  of  Count  Tolstoi's. 

" '  When  I  hear,'  said  he,  '  that  the  Church  is 
perishing,  or  going  to  perish,  because  of  this,  that, 


62  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

or  the  other,  that  is  being  done  by  men  in  power, 
it  reminds  me  of  the  story  of  the  boy  and  the 
eagle.  A  little  boy  rushed  one  day  into  the 
parlor  to  his  father,  crying  excitedly,  "  Father,  an 
eagle,  an  eagle  in  the  kitchen  !  Come  quickly 
and  rescue  it,  for  the  woman  cook  will  not  let  it 
go  !  "  And  the  father  said,  "  Peace,  my  boy.  If 
it  were  really  an  eagle  it  would  fly  away,  nor 
could  a  woman  cook  stand  for  a  moment  in  its 
way.  Believe  me,  it  is  only  a  hen."  And  when  I 
hear  that  the  Church  of  Christ,  which,  if  it  ex- 
ists at  all,  is  real,  eternal,  spiritual,  and  Dwine,  is 
going  to  perish  because  of  what  the  government 
is  doing,  I  think  of  that  eagle  caged  in  the  kitchen 
by  the  woman  cook,  and  I  say  to  myself, 
Peace,  peace  ;  it  is  no  eagle,  it  is  only  a  hen  ! ' ' 

On  the  afternoon  of  this  Sunday  in  St.  Peters- 
burg by  appointment  at  the  Hotel  de  Europe,  we 
received  Lieutenant-General  Alexander  Kireef, 
brother  of  Madame  Olga  Novikoff,  the  well-known 
author  upon  Russia,  of  whom  mention  has  already 
been  made  when  visiting  at  the  Marble  Palace. 
General  Kireef  had  fought  all  through  the  Plevna 
campaign  and  the  war  in  Bulgaria,  and  his  stories 
of  the  trials  and  difficulties  in  the  ShipkaPass  and 
in  the  field  with  Skoboleef  were  as  thrilling  and 
brilliant  as  Verestschagin's  famous  pictures  upon 
this  subject  in  his  well-known  collection.  Noth- 
ing, however,  could  exceed  the  modesty  and 
Christian  gentleness  of  this  bronzed  and  weather- 


SUNDA  Y  IN  S7\  PETERSBURG.  63 

beaten  soldier,  who  seemed  to  realize  the  apostle's 
description  of  Cornelius  the  centurian  as  one  who 
was  "  just  and  devout  and  who  served  God  with 
all  his  house."  General  Kireef  was  a  firm  be- 
liever in  the  possibility  of  Christian  unity,  by 
which  he  meant  a  union  of  the  Greek  with  the 
Latin  or  Western  Church.  His  lament  over  the 
Filioque  controversy  was  most  honest  and  most 
thorough,  and  his  pious  anticipation  that  the 
Church  of  the  future  would  wipe  out  the  wrong 
which  had  been  done  by  omitting  the  disputed 
expression  was  most  interesting.  He  himself  had 
been  a  delegate  to  the  Church  conference  held  at 
Bonn-upon-the-Rhine,  and  described  to  us  his  im- 
pressions of  Dr.  Dollinger  of  the  Old  Catholic 
Church,  and  Bishop  Young,  the  late  Bishop  of 
Florida,  who  was  the  representative  of  the  Amer- 
ican Episcopal  Church  at  this  meeting.  He  had 
a  kind  word  to  say  for  Pobedonestzeff,  the  much- 
abused  procurator  of  the  Holy  Synod.  When  we 
talked  with  him  about  the  tyrannies  he  had  exer- 
cised as  described  by  Mr.  Stead,  he  smiled  in 
reply,  and  gave  us  to  understand  that  Mr.  Stead 
has  on  hand  an  ample  command  of  rhetoric.  He 
was  very  proud  of  his  sister's  books  upon  Russia, 
and  glowed  with  the  ardor  of  a  true-born  soldier 
over  the  brilliant  but  arrested  career  of  the  now 
famous  Skoboleef,  whose  life  his  sister  had  just 
written  in  a  book  entitled  "  Skoboleef  and  the 
Slavonic  Cause."  He  gave  us,  in  this  afternoon's 


64  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

interview,  the  Eastern  question  in  a  nut-shell. 
"The  Slavs,"  he  said,  "will  ultimately  go  to 
Russia.  The  Germans  will  go  to  Germany. 
Austria  will  disappear  from  among  the  nations  of 
Europe  and  a  network  of  dependent  kingdoms 
will  become  federated  around  the  headship  of  the 
Tzar  as  now  in  Germany  the  lesser  German  king- 
doms are  absorbed  in  the  greater  German  Empire. 
Russia,"  he  declared,  "  is  the  young  giant  among 
the  nations.  France  and  Spain  and  Italy  and 
Germany  and  England  have  had  their  day.  Their 
strength  is  in  their  past ;  they  are  at  present  na- 
tions of  history,  but  Russia  is  just  beginning  to 
assert  her  power.  A  literary,  an  artistic,  a  re- 
ligious revival  is  each  in  its  way  bringing  out 
hidden  sources  of  power,  and  a  process  of  assim- 
ilation of  peoples  will  result,  in  the  next  century, 
in  the  development  of  a  larger  national  unity  than 
the  Russia  of  to-day  ever  dreams  of.  All  that 
has  been  in  Germany  and  in  England  will  appear 
in  due  time  in  Russia,  whose  period  of  reformation 
or  age  of  renaissance  is  not  as  yet  begun."  Gen- 
eral Kireef  explained  to  us  as  it  never  had  been 
brought  home  before,  how  it  was  that  the  unity 
which  pervades  Russia  was  a  religious  rather  than 
a  civil  or  secular  unity.  In  addressing  an  audi- 
ence, whether  it  be  in  Russia  or  in  Bulgaria  or  in 
Servia  or  Roumania,  the  speaker  would  not  begin 
with  the  expression  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  or 
"  Fellow-citizens,"  but  would  always  strike  deeper 


SUNDA  Y  IN  ST.  PE  TEKSB UR G.  65 

than  this  to  that  which  was  a  central  bond  of  unity, 
and  would  address  the  meeting  by  the  well-known 
expression  "  My  Fellow-Orthodox."  General  Ki- 
reef,  while  admiring  Tolstoi,  had  little  faith  in 
his  schemes  of  reform,  and  thought  that  Tolstoi 
in  a  certain  way  was  extemporizing  in  his  own  in- 
dividual fashion  upon  the  revelation  of  Jesus 
Christ,  very  much  as  Richard  Wagner  allegorized 
the  music  of  his  operas  from  the  old  legends  of 
the  German  fatherland. 

We  parted  from  our  kind  and  genial  military 
friend  in  the  evening,  and  after  writing  our  letters 
home  that  night,  sent  for  Pilley  and  made  out  our 
plans  for  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER  V. 

CONCERNING    MOSCOW. 

THE  three  American  travellers  took  the  night 
train  for  Moscow  at  8:30  o'clock.  Mr.  Pilley  pro- 
cured the  tickets  for  the  party,  and  after  a  fare- 
well caution  about  not  getting  left  over  at  the 
railway  stopping-places,  waved  his  hat,  after  the 
manner  of  Napoleon  at  Austerlitz,  and  we  saw 
him  no  more. 

Hereupon  Lord  Byron  fell  into  a  fit  of  pro- 
longed philosophizing  about  the  advantage  which 
would  accrue  if  it  were  possible  to  have  a  James 
Pilley  go  through  life  for  one— 'making  the  hard 
places  smooth  and  the  rough  places  plain  ; 
explaining  every  thing  on  the  tourist  view  of  life, 
and  overcoming  all  nascent  and  expressed  diffi- 
culties by  usurping  one's  own  feeble  will  with  his 
own  all-wise  dominant  determination  to  bring 
things  through.  Lord  Byron  always  talked,  while 
travelling  through  Russia,  in  a  subdued  and  hum- 
ming-bird character  of  voice,  finally  ending  in  a 
stage  whisper,  for  fear  of  the  secret  police  force 
of  the  third  section  ;  so  that  much  of  his  valuable 
conversation  became  hopelessly  lost,  and  in  this 
way — like  the  explorers  of  Nineveh  and  the  ruins 


CONCERNING  MOSCOW.  67 

of  Zoan — we  are  able  to  reconstruct  but  a  portion 
of  his  proverbial  philosophy. 

But  Mr.  Pilley's  warning  was  not  in  vain.  A 
most  alarming  tendency  developed  itself  on  the 
part  of  Mr.  Thackeray  and  Lord  Byron,  to  get 
out  at  way-stations  on  the  road  and  proceed  with 
steady  tread  to  the  buffet  to  refresh  the  inner 
man  exhausted  by  too  much  Winter  Palace  and 
Hermitage,  and  lunches  with  the  Russian  nobility. 

Warnings  being  in  vain,  it  became  necessary 
for  the  third  member  of  the  party  to  learn  the 
Russian  word  for . "  all  on  board,"  and  having  told 
them  in  advance  just  what  it  was,  to  sound  it  in 
their  ears  as  they  sat  by  the  open  window  of  the 
buffet  and,  in  this  way,  to  enforce  a  speedy 
retreat  to  the  train.  This  train  for  Moscow 
moved  along  on  a  double  track,  quite  like  the 
heavy  movement  of  a  Pullman  drawing-room  car 
on  the  New  York  Central  or  Pennsylvania  rail- 
road, and  by  10  o'clock  the  following  clay  the 
domes  and  turrets  of  the  four  hundred  churches 
in  Moscow  came  in  sight. 

There  are  three  great  sights  to  see  in  Moscow, 
viz.,  the  city  itself,  the  Kremlin,  and  St.  Saviour's 
Church. 

St.  Petersburg,  with  its  dashing  droskies  driv- 
ing along  the  Nevskoi  Prospekt,  seemed  like  old 
Rome,  with  its  chariots  driving  along  the  stony 
streets  of  the  Imperial  City,  where  now  is  the 
Corso. 


68  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

Moscow,  at  once,  with  its  Kremlin  towers  and 
wall,  so  strikingly  painted  in  Verestchagin's 
famous  picture  in  his  collection  of  Russian  paint- 
ings, seemed  like  Jerusalem  in  the  days  of  King 
Her.od,  when  there  came  wise  men  from  the  East 
to  worship  the  Infant  King  of  the  Jews. 

St.  Petersburg  seems  a  Western  and  a  Euro- 
pean city — Moscow  is  essentially  Eastern  and 
Muscovitish. 

The  following  brief  description  of  the  history 
of  Moscow  is  taken  from  the  interesting  pages  of 
Murray: 

"  In  the  fourteenth  century  Moscow  became 
the  capital  of  Muscovy  ;  Kief,  and  afterwards 
Vladimir,  having  till  then  enjoyed  that  distinc- 
tion. In  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of  Basil  II.  it 
was  taken  and  ravaged  by  Tamerlane  ;  and  later 
it  fell  again  into  the  hands  of  the  Tartars,  who 
sacked  it,  and  put  many  of  the  inhabitants  to  the 
sword.  In  1536  the  town  was  nearly  consumed 
by  fire,  in  which  2,000  of  the  inhabitants  perished 
In  1572  the  Tartars  fired  the  suburbs  and,  a 
furious  wind  driving  the  flames  into  the  city,  a 
considerable  portion  of  it  was  reduced  to  ashes, 
and  no  fewer  than  100,000  persons  perished  in  the 
"flames  or  by  the  sword.  In  1611  a  great  portion 
of  the  city  was  again  destroyed  by  fire,  when  the 
Poles  had  taken  possession  of  it,  under  the  pre- 
tence of  defending  the  inhabitants  from  the 
adherents  of  a  pretender  to  the  crown.  The 


CONCERNING  MOSCOW.  69 

plague  of  1771  diminished  the  population  by 
several  thousands — a  decrease  from  which  it  has 
never  recovered.  And,  lastly,  in  1812,  the  Mus- 
covites gave  up  their  ancient,  holy  and  beautiful 
city  to  the  devouring  element — the  grandest 
sacrifice  ever  made  to  national  feeling.  The  city 
was  the  idol  of  every  Russian's  heart,  her  shrines 
were  to  him  the  holiest  in  the  empire — hallowed 
by  seven  centuries  of  historical  associations." 

But  we  have  to  describe  the  city  as  it  is,  rather 
than  to  revert  to  Russian  history.  The  assertion 
sometimes  made,  that  no  city  is  so  irregularly 
built  as  Moscow,  is  in  some  respects  true  ;  none 
of  the  streets  are  straight  ;  houses  large  and 
small,  public  buildings,  churches  and  other  edi- 
fices are  mingled  confusedly  together ;  but  it 
gains  by  this  the  advantage  of  being  more  pict- 
uresque. The  streets  undulate  continually,  and 
thus  offer  from  time  to  time  points  of  view 
whence  the  eye  is  able  to  range  over  the  vast 
ocean  of  house-tops,  trees  and  gilded  and  colored 
domes.  The  profusion  of  churches,  370  in  num- 
ber, is  a  characteristic  feature  of  the  city.  But 
the  architecture  of  Moscow,  since  the  conflagra- 
tion of  1812,  is  not  quite  so  bizarre  as,  according 
to  the  accounts  of  travellers,  it  was  before  that 
event  ;  nevertheless  it  is  singular  enough.  In 
1813  the  point  chiefly  in  view  was  to  build,  and 
build  quickly,  rather  than  to  carry  any  certain 
plan  into  execution  ;  the  houses  were  replaced 


70  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

with  nearly  the  same  irregularity  with  respect  to 
each  other,  and  the  streets  became  as  crooked 
and  tortuous  as  before.  The  whole  gained,  there- 
fore, little  in  regularity  from  the  fire,  but  each 
individual  house  was  built  in  much  better  taste, 
gardens  became  more  frequent,  the  majority  of 
roofs  were  made  of  iron,  painted  green,  a  lavish 
use  was  made  of  pillars,  and  even  those  who 
could  not  be  profuse  erected  more  elegant  cot- 
tages. 

Hence  Moscow  has  all  the  charms  of  a  new 
city,  with  the  pleasing  negligence  and  pictur- 
esque irregularity  of  an  old  one.  In  the  streets  we 
come  now  to  a  large  magnificent  palace,  with  all 
the  pomp  of  Corinthian  pillars,  wrought-iron 
trellis-work  and  magnificent  approaches  and  gate- 
ways ;  and  now  to  a  simple  whitewashed  house, 
the  abode  of  a  modest  citizen's  family.  Near 
them  stands  a  small  church,  with  green  cupolas 
and  golden  stars.  Then  comes  a  row  of  little 
yellow  wooden  houses,  and  these  are  succeeded 
by  one  of  the  new  colossal  public  institutions. 
Sometimes  the  road  winds  through  a  number  of 
little  streets,  and  the  traveller  might  fancy  himself 
in  a  country  town  ;  suddenly  it  rises,  and  he  is  in  a 
wide  "place,"  from  which  streets  branch  off  on  all 
sides,  while  the  eye  wanders  over  the  forest  of 
houses  of  the  great  capital  ;  descending  again,  he 
comes  in  the  middle  of  the  town  to  the  banks  of 
the  river.  The  circumvallation  of  the  city  is 


CONCERNING  MOSCOW.  ;i 

upwards  of  twenty  English  miles  in  extent,  of 
a  most  irregular  form,  more  resembling  a  trape- 
zium than  any  other  figure  ;  within  this  are  two 
nearly  concentric  circular  lines  of  boulevards, 
the  sites  of  former  fortifications,  the  one  at  a 
distance  of  about  one  mile  and  a  half  from  the 
Kremlin,  completed  on  both  sides  of  the  Moskva  ; 
'the  internal  one — once  the  moat  of  the  Kremlin 
and  Kitai  Gorod — with  a  radius  of  about  a  mile, 
spreading  only  on  the  north  of  the  river,  and 
terminating  near  the  stone  bridge  on  the  one 
side,  and  the  Foundling  Hospital  on  the  other. 
The  river  enters  the  barrier  of  the  vast  city  to 
which  it  has  given  a  name  about  the  central  point 
of  the  western  side;  and  after  winding  around  the 
Devichi  convent  like  a  serpent,  and  from  thence 
flowing  beneath  the  battlements  of  the  Kremlin, 
and  receiving  the  scanty  stream  of  the  Jaousa, 
issues  again  into  the  vast  plain,  till  it  meets  the 
Oka,  a  tributary  of  the  mighty  Volga,  which  it 
joins  at  Nijni  Novgorod. 

On  the  north  of  the  Moskva,  streets  and  houses, 
in  regular  succession,  reach  to  the  very  barrier  ; 
and  though  a  vast  proportion  of  ground  is  left 
unoccupied,  owing  to  the  enormous  width  of  the 
streets  and  boulevards,  the  earthen  rampart  may 
truly  be  said  to  gird  in  the  city.  But  in  the  other 
quarters,  and  particularly  to  the  south,  Moscow 
can  hardly  be  said  to  extend  further  than  the 
outward  boulevard. 


72  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA, 

The  centre  of  this  vast  collection  of  buildings 
is  the  Kremlin,  which  forms  nearly  a  triangle  of 
about  two  English  miles  in  extent.  On  the  east 
comes  the  Kitai  Gorod  (Chinese  city),  which  still 
preserves  its  ancient  fence  of  towers  and  but- 
tresses. Encircling  these  two  divisions,  and  itself 
bounded  by  the  river  and  inner  boulevard,  lies 
the  Beloi  Gorod  (white  city).  The  space  enclosed 
between  the  two  circles  to  the  north  of  the 
Moskva,  and  between  the  river  and  the  outward 
boulevard  on  the  south,  is  called  the  Zemlianoi 
Gorod.  Beyond  the  boulevards  are  the  suburbs. 

Before  entering  the  Kremlin  it  will  be  well  to 
view  it  from  one  or  two  points  on  the  outside,  and 
the  most  favorable  spot  for  this  purpose,  on  the 
south  side,  is  the  stone  bridge  across  the  Moskva  ; 
from  the  river  that  washes  its  base  the  hill  of  the 
Kremlin  rises,  picturesquely  adorned  with  turf 
and  shrubs.  The  buildings  appear  set  in  a  rich 
frame  of  water,  verdant  foliage,  and  snowy  wall, 
the  majestic  column  of  Ivan  Veliki  rearing  itself 
high  above  all,  like  the  axis  round  which  the  whole 
moves.  The  colors  everywhere  are  most  lively 
— red,  white,  green,  gold  and  silver.  Amidst  the 
confusion  of  the  numerous  small  antique  edifices, 
the  Bolshoi  Dvorets  (the  large  palace  built  by 
Nicholas)  has  an  imposing  aspect. 

After  visiting  the  many  strange  and  interesting 
sights  in  the  Kremlin,  this  party  of  three — with  no 
Pilley  to  conduct  one's  way  and  manage  one's 


CONCERNING  MOSCOW.  73 

thinking — sat  for  a  long  time  under  the  spacious 
dome  of  St.  Saviour's  Church  and  watched  the 
incessant  procession  of  monks,  peasant  women, 
soldiers  and  Russian  field  laborers,  who,  with  their 
muskrat  faces,  sheep-skin  coverings,  felt  boots 
and  all-pervasive  smell  of  leather,  filed  in  and  out 
of  this  greatest  Temple  of  the  Eastern  Church. 

And  some  such  train  of  thought  as  this  forced 
its  way  into  the  writer's  mind.  Moscow  is  to 
the  Europe  of  to-day  something  like  that  which 
Prague  was  three  centuries  ago.  This  wilderness 
of  spires,  belonging  to  four  hundred  churches, 
marks  it  as  an  Eastern  and  an  Asiatic  city.  Yet 
this  Eastern  religion  is  thoroughly  provincial  ; 
there  is  nothing  large  or  cosmopolitan  about  it. 
The  troubled  face  of  St.  John  the  Divine  and  the 
grieved  look  of  Peter,  in  the  famous  picture  of 
"  The  Last  Supper,"  behind  the  Metropolitan's 
throne  in  this  St.  Saviour's  Church,  are  reproduced 
to-day  in  the  thoughtful  minds  of  all  sincere 
Russian  Christians,  as  they  feel  in  their  inmost 
souls  that  after  all  that  can  be  said,  their  Church 
has  betrayed  the  simple  Jesus  of  the  Gospels  for 
the  state  Christ  of  the  Orthodox  Church,  which 
church  is  only  an  arm  of  the  government — like  the 
army  or  the  navy  or  the  third  section  of  the  secret 
police. 

Moscow  is  the  border  city  between  Europe  and 
Asia.  The  East  and  the  West  will  meet  here  some 
day.  The  American  Alaska,  with  steamer  and 


74  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

railroad  termination,  will  force  a  way  into  the 
heart  of  Europe  via  the  Russian  Empire,  and  then 
the  provincialism  of  Russia  will  be  a  thing  of  the 
past.* 

The  East  will  meet  the  West  and  will  take  on 
at  last  the  stirring  active  features  of  its  civiliza- 
tion ;  the  West  will  learn  from  this  Eastern  em- 
pire something  of  its  reserve  and  rugged  strength, 
and  the  coming  man  will  be  the  third  term  in  the 
problem,  the  product  of  these  two  natural  forces. 

But  our  plain  and  pragmatical  guide — a  mere 
tertiary  deposit  or  a  base  Silurian  compared  with 
the  omniscient  Pilley — called  us  from  our  reveries 
to  see  more  sights  in  the  way  of  churches,  palaces, 
museums  and  untold  memorabilia,  the  accounts  of 
which  are  written  in  the  prolific  pages  of  "  Murray  " 
and  "  Baedeker." 

In  the  afternoon  of  this  same  day  this  party 
hired  a  carriage,  and  after  driving  through  the 
city,  brought  up  at  last  with  a  sort  of  round  turn 
dramatic  effect  at  the  house  of  Count  Tolstoi,  as 
the  chariot  of  the  Syrian  rumbled  its  wheels  to 
the  door  of  the  Prophet  Elisha — a  prophet  in  each 
case  being  the  object  of  search.  We  found  a 
quiet,  old-fashioned  stone  and  plaster  house,  inside 
of  a  walled  enclosure,  very  much  like  a  walled 

*Since  this  sentence  has  been  penned  a  graphic  and  detailed  account 
has  gone  the  rounds  ol  the  American  press,  describing  a  proposed  plan 
for  a  railroad  through  Alaska  to  Behring  Straits,  with  a  tunnel 
under  the  straits  connecting  with  a  railway  from  the  Russian  coast  to 
Moscow  and  thence  by  Moscow  to  Berlin. 


CONCERNING  MOSCOW,  75 

French  chateau,  such  as  one  sees  constantly  in 
France  and  Belgium,  in  pictures  and  engravings 
of  the  scenes  of  '93,  with  the  emigre's  homes  as  the 
base  of  the  story.  Our  letters  from  the  Tolstoi 
family,  at  the  Winter  Palace  in  St.  Petersburg, 
secured  for  us  a  warm  reception,  and  before  we 
knew  it  the  children  and  the  English  governess  and 
some  young  lady  guests  were  chatting  away  in 
excellent  English  as  if  we  were  very  much  at 
home.  The  Count's  family  had  heard  of  our  pro- 
posed visit  and  had  notified  him  of  our  coming. 
He  was  away  on  a  visit,  fifteen  miles  beyond  the 
monastery  town  of  Troitsa,  which  is  about  forty 
miles  by  rail  from  Moscow.  A  certain  Russian 
friend,  named  Prince  Ourouzeff,  had  urged  Count 
Tolstoi  to  visit  him  on  his  farm,  and  he  was  at 
this  time  making  his  visit.  Still,  he  had  left  word 
that  if  his  unknown  American  friends  should  come 
all  this  distance  to  see  him,  they  should  be  helped 
on  their  way  for  the  rest  of  their  journey,  and 
push  on  until  they  found  him  at  his  hospitable  old 
friend's  mansion. 

So  the  sweet  and  obliging  daughter  sent  a 
telegram  in  that  most  undecipherable  Russian 
language,  to  the  effect  that  we  would  leave  at  6 
o'clock  the  next  morning,  and  would  be  at  Troitsa 
at  10  o'clock.  And  after  bidding  our  friends 
good-bye,  we  went  home  to  the  hotel,  to  be  pre- 
pared to  leave  on  the  morrow  for  the  visit  to 
Count  Tolstoi. 


j6  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

It  seemed  to  us  then,  on  that  drosky  ride  to  the 
hotel,  that  it  was  not  such  a  fool's  errand  after 
all.  We  were  like  soldiers  at  the  front,  who  were 
to  make  the  attack  upon  the  morrow.  What 
would  the  end  be  ?  How  would  Count  Tolstoi 
meet  us  ?  He  looked  in  his  pictures  like  a  fierce 
sort  of  Russian  Thomas  Carlyle.  Would  he  knock 
us  down  metaphorically,  like  Giant  Despair  with 
his  crab-apple  cudgel  belaboring  his  captives  in 
Doubting  Castle — only  on  purpose  to  set  us  up 
again  for  a  second  playful  game  of  metaphysical 
ten-pins  ? 

"  How  very  far  away  we  are  from  home," 
sighed  Lord  Byron,  as  the  third  member  of  the 
party  went  into  a  Moscow  apothecary's  to  hunt  for 
a  Russian  Alcock's  Porous  Plaster  to  forfend  the 
rumbling  threatenings  of  some  rheumatic  twinges. 

"Far  away  from  home,  did  you  say  ?  "  replied 
his  friend,  on  emerging  from  the  store.  "  Not  a 
bit  of  it ;  look  here  !  What  do  you  think  I  have 
found  on  the  shelf  of  this  Russian  drug  store  ? " 
and  the  third  term  in  the  party  produced  from 
his  pocket  a  bottle  of  "  Mother  Siegel's  Carmina- 
tive Syrup,"  made  at  the  Shaker  establishment, 
on  the  way  to  Lebanon  Springs — six  miles  from 
Pittsfield,  Massachusetts — and  decocted  in  the 
laboratory  of  his  old  friend,  Brother  Alonzo 
Hollister,  whose  photograph  the  writer  had  often 
shown  to  strangers  as  a  picture  of  "  Emerson  upon 
his  farm." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HOW    WE    FOUND    COUNT    TOLSTOI. 

THE  train  from  Moscow  to  the  famous  mon- 
astery town  of  Troitsa  left  the  station  at  6:30  in 
the  morning,  and  the  day  was  a  Russian  day, 
cold  and  gray  and  leaden. 

At  9:30  we  found  ourselves  at  Troitsa,  where, 
while  the  tritska  was  being  made  ready,  we  wan- 
dered through  this  ancient  and  strong-smelling 
town.  Fat  and  pudgy  vegetarian  monks  abounded 
on  all  sides ;  we  counted  nearly  four  hundred 
that  morning  in  the  refectory  and  at  chapel  and 
in  the  various  apartments  of  their  famous  monas- 
tery. These  monks  seemed  so  like  soft  dough  or 
putty,  that  one  was  almost  tempted  to  pull  their 
fat  cheeks  to  twist  them  into  shape,  as  the  boys 
do  with  the  gutta-percha  faces  which  are  pulled 
and  twisted  into  all  sorts  of  shapes  and  forms. 

"  Troitsa,"  as  Murray  says,  "  is  the  Canterbury 
of  Russia,"  and  a  day  may  well  be  devoted  to  it. 
St.  Sergius,  the  son  of  a  boyar  of  Rostof,  at  the 
head  of  twelve  disciples,  established  a  monastery 
on  this  spot  about  the  year  1342.  His  piety  and 
the  honor  conferred  upon  him  by  the  Patriarch  of 
Constantinople  soon  rendered  him  and  his  brother- 


78  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

hood  famous.  The  princes  of  Moscow  sought  his 
counsel  and  the  oft-mentioned  Dimitry  of  the 
Don  was  blessed  by  him  before  he  set  out  for  the 
battle  of  Kulikova.  Two  monks  from  this  mon- 
astery, Osliabia  and  Peresvest,  fought  by  the 
side  of  the  victorious  prince,  and  one  of  them 
fell  dead,  together  with  his  Tartar  adversary  in 
single  combat.  The  intervention  of  St.  Sergius 
on  this  memorable  occasion  was  rewarded  by 
large  grants  of  lands,  and  thenceforth  the  monas- 
tery grew  rich  and  powerful  ;  its  abbot,  however, 
the  holy  Sergius,  remaining,  as  before,  simple, 
self-denying  and  laborious,  and  cutting  wood  and 
fetching  water  to  the  last.  His  right  to  canoniza- 
tion was  still  further  established  by  the  visitation 
(recorded  in  the  annals  of  the  Russo-Greek 
Church)  of  the  Holy  Virgin,  who  appeared  in  his 
cell,  accompanied  by  the  Apostles  Peter  and 
John,  about  the  year  1388.  He  died  in  1392. 
The  Tartar  hordes  of  Khan  Edigei  laid  waste 
this  holy  habitation  in  1408,  and  it  was  only 
re-established,  together  with  the  present  Cathe- 
dral of  the  Holy  Trinity,  in  1423.  Thirty  monas- 
teries were  subsequently  attached  to  it,  and  much 
land,  until,  in  1764,  St.  Sergius  was  the  possessor 
as  well  as  the  patron  of  more  than  106,000  male 
serfs.  The  most  prominent  portion  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  monastery  is  the  siege  by  30,000  Poles 
under  Sapieha  and  Lisofski  in  1608,  which  was 
only  raised  after  sixteen  months,  on  the  approach 


HOW  WE  FOUND  COUNT  TOLSTOI.  79 

of  a  large  Russian  force.  Later  again,  after  the 
election  of  Michael  Romanoff,  Ladislaus  of 
Poland,  styling  himself  Tzar  of  Muscovy,  be- 
sieged the  Troitsa  monastery  once  more,  but  he 
was  repulsed  by  the  brotherhood.  When  the 
Poles  were  in  possession  of  Moscow,  the  monks 
of  St.  Sergius  rendered  considerable  assistance  to 
their  countrymen  in  the  shape  of  supplies  in 
bread  and  money.  The  most  interesting  fact, 
however,  in  the  records  of  the  Troitsa  monastery 
is  that  it  was  the  place  of  refuge  on  two  occasions 
of  Peter  the  Great  and  his  brother  John  when 
they  fled  from  the  insurgent  Streltsi.  Since  then 
the  repose  of  the  monks  has  not  been  disturbed 
by  political  events.  The  French,  in  1812,  went 
half-way  towards  the  monastery,  but  returned 
without  the  expected  booty. 

The  plague  and  the  cholera  have  never  ven- 
tured within  the  holy  walls,  which  were  founded  in 
1513  and  finished  in  1547.  They  extend  4,500  feet 
and  are  from  thirty  to  fifty  feet  high,  with  a  thick- 
ness of  twenty  feet.  They  were  put  in  order  by 
Peter  the  Great,  but  their  present  appearance  is 
due  to  a  later  period.  Eight  towers  form  the  an- 
gles; one  of  them,  of  Gothic  architecture,  is  sur- 
mounted by  an  obelisk,  terminating  in  a  cluck 
carved  in  stone,  to  commemorate  the  fact  of 
Peter  the  Great  having  practised  duck-shooting 
on  a  neighboring  pond. 

There  are  ten   churches  within   the  monasterv. 


8O  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

The  most  ancient  is  the  Cathedral  of  Trinity. 
The  shrine  of  St.  Sergius  stands  within  it,  weigh- 
ing 936  pounds  of  pure  silver.  The  relics  of  the 
saint  are  exposed  to  view.  In  the  altar-screen,  in 
a  glass  case,  will  be  seen  the  staff  and  other 
ecclesiastical  appurtenances  of  the  patron.  Two 
pictures  of  the  saint,  painted  on  portions  of  his 
coffin,  are  suspended  on  the  walls.  That  near 
the  shrine  was  carried  into  battle  by  the  Tzar 
Alexis  and  by  Peter  the  Great  ;  and  the  Emperor 
Alexander  I.  was  blessed  with  it  in  1812.  On  a 
silver  plate,  at  the  back  of  the  image,  are  re- 
corded the  several  military  occasions  at  which  it 
assisted.  The  interior  of  the  cathedral  is  replete 
with  massive  silver  ornaments,  and  in  the  arch- 
bishop's stalT  is  a  representation  of  the  Last  Sup- 
per, of  which  the  figures  are  of  solid  gold,  with 
the  exception  of  Judas,  who  is  of  brass.  All  the 
images  are  adorned  with  precious  stones.  The 
small  chapel  alongside  was  added  in  1552,  rebuilt 
in  1623,  and  again  in  1779  and  1840.  Next  to 
this  is  a  small  chapel  erected  over  the  supposed 
site  of  the  cell  in  which  the  Holy  Virgin  ap- 
peared to  St.  Sergius.  The  large  church,  with 
five  cupolas,  was  consecrated  in  1585  and  is 
called  the  Assumption  of  the  Virgin.  The  fres- 
coes were  painted  in  1681.  One  of  its  altars  was 
consecrated  in  1609,  during  the  roar  of  the  Polish 
artillery,  and  devoted  to  prayer  for  deliverance 
from  the  scurvy,  of  which  disease  three  thousand 


HOU  WE  FOUND  COUNT  TOLSTOI.  8 1 

of  the  inmates  of  the  monastery  had  already 
perished. 

The  large  two-headed  eagle  in  wood  commem- 
orates the  concealment  of  Peter  the  Great  under 
the  altar  during  the  insurrection  of  the  Streltsi. 

Off  the  southwest  angle  of  the  church  is  a  well 
dug  by  St.  Sergius  and  discovered  in  1644,  at  a 
time  when  the  monastery  was  in  great  need  of 
fresh  water.  Between  the  Assumption  and  the 
belfry  stands  a  monument  erected  in  1792,  on 
which  the  principal  events  in  the  history  of  the 
monastery  are  recorded. 

The  fourth  church,  "  The  Descent  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,''  was  founded  after  the  capture  of  Kazan 
by  the  Tzar  Ivan  Vassilevitch  in  person.  The 
tomb  of  Maximus,  a  learned  Greek,  stands  in  a 
small  chapel  close  by.  The  next  church  in 
importance  is  that  of  "  Sergius  Radonejeski," 
with  an  immense  refectory  and  a  gallery  all 
round,  built  in  1692.  The  iron  roof,  added  in 
1746  after  a  fire,  is  of  a  very  peculiar  mechanical 
construction.  Over  the  church  is  a  depository  of 
nearly  four  thousand  old  books  and  manuscripts, 
amongst  the  most  remarkable  of  which  is  a  copy 
of  the  Evangelists  on  parchment,  attributed  to 
the  early  part  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

Four  hundred  monks  were  surging  in  and  out 
the  buildings  of  this  crov/ded  monastery,  while  all 
the  time  the  squalor  and  misery  and  wretched- 
ness of  the  village  with  dreary-looking  hamlets 


82  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

and  broken  carts  and  dilapidated-looking  chil- 
dren and  cattle  told  the  story  of  monastic  ineffi- 
ciency to  remedy  this  existing  state  of  misery 
which  a  New  England  town-meeting  would  regu- 
late in  a  week's  time. 

After  visiting  this  interesting  but  very  dirty 
monastery  town,  a  three-horse  sledge  was  ob- 
tained, and  with  a  guide  to  accompany  us  the 
sledge  started  forth  in  the  direction  of  the 
Russian  nobleman's  manor  house.  But  how  lit- 
tle does  the  average  man  and  the  average  trav- 
elling man  know  what  is  in  store  for  him  when 
he  riseth  up  early  and  goeth  forth  cheerily  to  a 
day's  unforeseen  excursion.  We  had  not  gone 
far  before  there  followed  a  series  of  accidents. 

The  traces  broke  ;  snow-drifts,  mud,  rivulets  of 
water,  and  piles  of  rubbish  blocked  the  way  ;  and 
the  driver  and  the  guide,  after  no  little  consulta- 
tion, decided  that  it  was  impossible  to  proceed. 
At  this  juncture  a  Muscovite  peasant,  with  a 
banged  head  of  hair  and  a  typical  muskrat  face,  ap- 
peared upon  the  rutty  road  and  informed  us  that 
Prince  Ourouzeff  was  expecting  a  party  of  Ameri- 
cans and  had  sent  a  couple  of  sledges  to  meet 
them  half  a  verst  further  on.  And  thus,  in  an 
hour's  time  from  the  moment  we  left  the  rejected 
and  deserted  sledge,  we  were  welcomed  at  the 
Russian  manor  house  by  two  strangers,  one  a 
tall  and  square-faced  gentleman,  and  the  other  a 
diminutive  and  sensitive-looking  man. 


HOW  WE  FOUND  COUNT  TOLSTOI.  83 

The  tall  stranger  with  the  silvery  head  was 
Prince  Ourouzeff ;  and  the  gentle-mannered 
man,  more  poet  than  artist  or  reformer,  was  the 
famous  Count  Leo  Tolstoi,  soldier,  society-man, 
novelist,  religious  reformer  and  radical  all  in  one. 

But  the  difficulties  of  this  journey  to  Prince 
Ourouzeff's  can  never  be  rightly  detailed.  The 
dreary  pathway  across  a  desert  which  was  a 
prairie  with  no  fences  or  trees  save  bushes  and 
scrub-oak  ;  the  war  of  the  elements,  when  all  the 
powers  invoked  in  the  Benedicite  seemed  to 
make  their  appearance  that  day — fire  and  heat, 
mist  and  vapor,  ice  and  snow  and  all  the  winds  of 
God  ;  the  broken  sledge  ;  the  spiritless  horses  ; 
the  dejected  pedestrians  ;  the  disconsolate  guide  ; 
the  rebellious  and  mutinous  companions  ;  the 
would-be  Columbus,  not  heeding  the  mutterings 
and  curses  of  his  fellow-voyagers  and  keeping 
well  in  advance  out  of  ear-shot  of  their  revilings 
— all  made  the  appearance  of  the  messenger  from 
the  manor  house  of  Prince  Ourouzeff  seem  like 
the  slogan  of  Havelock's  Campbells  at  Lucknow, 
or  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  steamer  "  Thetis  "  to 
the  Greely  survivors  at  Camp  Clay  among  the 
Greenland  icebergs. 

Mr.  Thackeray  and  Lord  Byron  were  together  in 
one  sledge  in  the  rear,  while  the  guide  and  the 
other  member  of  the  party  went  on  in  advance  in 
these  Russian  semi-canal  boats  drawn  by  a 
stout  horse  apiece,  with  a  peasant  driver  in  atten- 


84  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

dance.  Whenever  the  writer  looked  back  at  his 
companions  coming  on  behind  through  the  mud 
and  slush  of  this  aqueous  route,  Lord  Byron  could 
be  seen  with  upraised  hands — after  the  manner  of 
Buddha  under  the  Bo  tree — as  if  the  joined 
thumbs  and  perpendicular  digitals  indicated  a  de- 
gree of  amazement  for  which  no  choice  of  words 
was  adequate.  But  in  an  evil  moment,  as  Lord 
Byron,  with  closed  eyes  and  upraised  hands,  was 
communing  with  his  inward  or  astral  body,  his 
sledge  gave  a  lurch,  and  our  poetical  friend  was 
tipped  out  into  a  soft,  wet,  yellow  patch  of  mud, 
where,  in  his  abject  helplessness,  he  continued 
sitting  with  upraised  hands  and  closed  eyes,  des- 
pite the  fact  that  his  companion,  Mr.  Thackeray, 
with  rope  and  stick  and  a  rudimentary  vocabulary 
of  the  Russian  tongue,  was  vainly  suggesting  to 
the  stolid  Muscovitish  driver  that  the  proper  thing 
to  be  done  was  to  replace  the  rapt  and  transcenden- 
tal poet  upon  the  thwart  of  their  semi-canal  boat 
again.  Was  it  any  wonder  that,  in  the  subsequent 
interview  with  Count  Tolstoi  and  his  friend,  our 
host,  Lord  Byron  should  find  his  mind  diverted 
from  the  object  of  this  pilgrimage  to  the  misera- 
ble condition  of  his  apparel,  and  that  he  should 
emulate  the  tactics  of  the  Apostle  of  old  and  seek 
to  warm  himself  by  the  crackling  fire  which  played 
upon  Prince  Ourouzeff's  generous  hearth  ?  A 
lunch  followed,  and  an  afternoon  and  evening 
were  spent  together  wandering  around  the  Rus- 


HOW  WE  FOUND  COUNT  TOLSTOI.  85 

sian  farm.  Our  talk  was  about  war,  politics,  litera- 
ture, religion,  the  evils  of  civilization  and  the  need 
above  everything  else  of  the  return  of  Christianity 
to  the  literalism  of  Jesus.  This  man  is  sincere 
and  true  ;  he  is  radical  and  one-sided  ;  he  has 
been  very  unwise  in  his  latest  story — written 
since  this  visit — in  thinking  aloud  in  French  and 
Russian  in  a  vein  not  allowable  in  English  type 
and  ink. 

Perhaps,  by  this  time,  with  all  the  awful  con- 
ditions that  are  about  him,  he  is  a  bit  crazed  in 
his  outlook  upon  life.  But  then  Tolstoi  is  the 
voice  in  the  wilderness  in  Russia  to-day  ;  and 
when  the  new  Russia  is  evolved  out  of  her  social, 
political,  literery  and  religious  House  of  Bondage, 
the  name  of  Tolstoi — not  as  the  author  of  "  Anna 
Karenina,"  or  the  "  Kreutzer  Sonata,"  but  as  the 
author  of  "  My  Confession,"  and  "  My  Religion  " 
— will  be  remembered  as  the  prophet  of  this 
period  of  Russian  renaissance  ;  just  as  Dante  is 
remembered  to-day  in  Italy,  or  Luther  is  not  for- 
gotten in  the  German  fatherland.* 

*  That  the  teachings  of  Tolstoi  are  beginning  at  last  to  have  a  dis- 
tinct following  is  seen  from  the  subjoined  dispatch  to  a  Boston  news- 
paper of  the  date  of  October  29th,  1890 : 

FOLLOWERS  OF  TOLSTOI. 
The  Theories  of  the  Novelist  put  in  practice  by  Russian  Ladies  and 

Gentlemen. 

BERLIN,  Oct.  28.  A  curious  experiment  is  being  made  at  Vishne- 
volot,  Ozmi,  in  the  government  of  Tver,  Russia,  by  the  admirers  of 
Count  Tolstoi,  who  have  formed  themselves  into  an  association  and 
propose  carrying  his  theories  into  practice.  They  are  all  ladies  and 
gentlemen  of  the  upper  classes,  but  have  donned  the  peasant  costume, 
and  live  simple,  industrious  lives. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    STORY    OF    COUNT    TOLSTOl'S   LIFE. 

A  BOSTON  newspaper  describes  a  discussion 
recently  held  concerning  Count  Tolstoi  as  follows: 
"At  a  meeting  of  the  Unitarian  Club,  at  the 
Hotel  Vendome,  in  Boston,  Mr.  Joseph  Lee  made 
a  long  and  interesting  address  upon  the  person- 
ality and  theories  of  Count  Tolstoi.  As  Mr.  Lee 
had  visited  the  great  Russian  novelist  and  phi- 
losopher at  his  home,  he  had  had  peculiar  oppor- 
tunities for  observation  and  learning  the  causes 
which  had  led  to  his  opinions.  Mr.  Lee  thought 
that  Tolstoi  had  reached  his  conclusions  rather 
by  instinct  than  by  close  reasoning,  as  it  seemed 
to  him  that  Tolstoi  lacked  mental  training,  is  im- 
patient of  argument,  and  does  not  think  system- 
atically. 

Other  speakers  followed  with  an  interesting 
discussion  ;  Rev.  Dr.  Peabody  taking  the  ground 
that  it  was  high  time  for  the  country  to  hear  the 
gospel  of  simplicity.  Prof.  Sedgwick,  of  the  Insti- 
tute of  Technology,  said,  "  To  adopt  Tolstoi's 
views  would  reduce  all  people  to  the  level  of  the 
cave-dwellers."  He  refused  to  have  him  set  up 
for  a  guide. 


THE  STORY  OF  COUNT  TO LS TOTS  LIFE.        87 

There  are  three  things  to  DC  considered  when 
we  come  to  study  out  the  story  of  Count  Tolstoi's 
life,  and  these  are,  what  he  has  written,  what  he 
has  done,  and  what  he  is.  The  social,  religious, 
artistic,  literary,  and  political  forces  of  the  Russia 
of  the  present  day  form  a  study  which  taxes  the 
bravest  and  most  enthusiastic  enquirer. 

In  the  midst  of  barbaric  splendor  and  squalor, 
in  the  very  presence  of  imperial  autocracy  on  the 
one  hand,  and  nihilistic  strivings  on  the  other 
hand,  Count  Leo  Tolstoi — soldier,  novelist,  and 
social  leader — returns,  as  by  the  preaching  of  a 
John  the  Baptist  in  the  wilderness,  to  the  literal- 
ism of  the  words  of  Christ,  and  shows  the  power 
once  more  in  the  world's  history  of  the  principle 
of  renunciation,  as  Buddha  showed  it  in  India, 
and  the  Divine  founder  of  Christianity  showed  it 
in  Galilee  and  Judea,  and  as  George  Fox  and 
William  Penn  have  exhibited  it  in  the  sensuous 
and  luxurious  age  of  the  dissolute  Charles  II. 

In  a  notice  of  Dr.  George  •  Brandes'  recent 
work,  entitled,  "  Impressions  of  Russia,"  a  re- 
viewer in  The  New  York  Churchman  writes  as  fol- 
lows :  "  The  attention  of  the  age  is  fixed  upon  the 
Russian  people  and  the  Russian  empire.  Not 
only  is  the  latter  the  most  important  factor  in 
European  politics,  but  the  former  is  the  most  in- 
teresting study  among  nationalities.  Politi- 
cally, the  Russian  empire  is  the  x  of  the  European 
equation,  and  the  algebriac  puzzle  is  to  know 


88  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

what  sign,  whether  plus  or  minus,  is  to  be  prefixed 
to  it.  We  have  used  the  terms  Russian  empire 
and  Russian  people  advisedly,  because  one  great 
feature  in  this  uncertainty  lies  in  the  fact  that 
the  empire  is  a  great  power  imposed  upon  the 
people.  It  sits  like  Sinbad's  old  man  of  the  sea, 
astride  the  shoulders  of  the  nation.  Everywhere 
else  in  Europe  there  is  a  certain  correspondence 
between  government  and  nation,  something  of 
mutuality,  if  it  be  but  a  tradition  of  growth  and 
development.  But  in  Russia  there  is  nothing  of 
the  sort.  Even  the  blood  of  the  Romanoff 
dynasty  is  nine-tenths  German,  and  yet  the  pas- 
sion of  that  dynasty  has  been  almost  entirely  to 
wage  war  against  Western  civilization.  In  other 
lands  rank  is  the  symbol,  somewhat,  of  separation. 
The  English  peer,  who  looks  back  to  Battle  Abbey 
roll  and  Doomsday  Book  ;  the  French  noble,  who 
cherishes  the  pre-revolutionary  memories  of  a 
house  dating  back  to  the  Crusades  ;  the  German, 
who  cherishes  his  sixteen  quarterings  as  more 
precious  than  land  or  wealth;  all  these  belong  to 
a  patrician  class  and  are  conscious  of  a  distinction 
which  the  roturier  cannot  attain.  But  in  Russia 
there  is  no  such  feeling.  There  is  no  antiquity 
to  which  the  Russian  looks  back.  Rank  is  mainly 
bureaucratic,  given  or  taken  away,  at  the  pleasure 
of  the  crown.  Birth  and  lineage  go  for  very  lit- 
tle. Wealth  and  power  are  all  in  all.  WThile  the 
Russian  obeys  with  a  submission  which  is  Orien- 


THE  STORY  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI'S  LIFE.       89 

tal,  Asiatic  in  its  fond  humility,  it  is  simply  be- 
cause such  seems  to  him  the  order  of  the  universe. 
He  submits  as  he  submits  to  the  sun  which  warms 
him  or  the  frost  that  chills  him,  because  he  has  no 
idea  that  he  can  change  the  operation  of  heat 
or  cold. 

"  Yet  in  this  Russian  people  there  is  a  great 
power,  a  vast,  undeveloped  capacity,  and  it  is  this 
Russian  Empire  that  is  striving  with  the  one  hand 
to  use,  and  with  the  other  to  repress,  the  native 
talent  and  energy.  It  is  this  spectacle  which 
makes  Russia  a  study  at  once  painful  and  fascinat- 
ing, and  Russian  literature,  as  the  true  exponent 
of  the  various  phases  and  workings  of  the  popular 
nature,  the  most  deeply  interesting  literature  of 
the  day.  Elsewhere,  men  and  women  who  write, 
belong,  whatever  their  nationality,  to  the  Catholic 
Church  of  the  republic  of  letters  ;  they  owe  a 
certain  fealty  to  literature  at  large.  But  the  Rus- 
sian writer  is  the  representative  of  his  people, 
and  all  that  is  of  worth  in  his  work  comes  directly 
from  the  thoughts  and  feelings  which  are  throb- 
bing in  the  brain  and  heart  of  that  people. 

"  We  have  briefly  given,  in  the  above  statement 
the  impression  which  this  book,  which  we  have 
read  with  intense  interest,  has  made  upon  us. 
It  is  the  work  of  a  highly-cultured  and  acute 
observer  and  most  fair-minded  critic.  In  the 
first  part,  Dr.  Brandes  has  told  us  of  the  way  in 
which  Russia  appears  to  him  ;  in  the  second,  he 


90  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

has  given  a  brief,  but  very  striking,  outline  of 
Russian  literature.  The  two  things  go  together 
as  nowhere  else  in  the  world.  That  hidden 
future,  which  so  inscrutably  broods  over  the  vast 
Empire  stretching  from  the  German  frontier  to 
the  Pacific  shore,  is  dimly  prophesied  in  the  pages 
of  Russia's  authors,  and  the  fires  which  smoulder 
beneath  the  surface  and  are  held  down  by  the 
gigantic  forces  of  the  Empire  burn  the  more 
vividly  through  the  loopholes  which  a  relentless 
censorship  overlooks.  No  novel  we  ever  read 
has  more  of  fascination  than  a  well-written  book 
on  Russia,  because  no  fiction  can  approach  that 
strangest  medley  of  power  and  weakness,  which 
bears  the  name  of  Muscovite." 

The  story  of  Count  Tolstoi's  life  is  the  story  of 
the  growth  of  a  soul.  There  is  almost  nothing  of 
outward  incident  in  his  life  that  could  excite 
the  interest  of  the  reader.  His  has  been  a  life  of 
thought,  of  spiritual  aspiration,  struggle  and 
vision,  combined  with  the  most  laborious  art.  It 
is,  therefore,  a  story  incapable  of  anything 
approaching  to  dramatic  treatment.  It  were 
impossible  to  give  life  and  movement  to  a  narra- 
tive constructed  out  of  "My  Confession,"  and 
"  My  Religion,"  and  these  works  contain  the 
account  of  his  own  spiritual  development,  aside 
from  which  his  life-story  is  barren  of  interest. 

Count  Lyof  Nikolaevitch  Tolstoi  was  born 
August  28,  1828,  in  the  village  of  Yasnaya  Poly- 


THE  STORY  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI'S  LIFE.        91 

ana,  his  mother's  estate,  in  the  Department  of 
Tula.  He  was  of  aristocratic  lineage,  his  father 
being  a  direct  descendant  of  Count  Piotr  Andree- 
vitch,  an  attendant  at  the  Court  of  Peter  the 
Great.  His  mother  was  the  only  daughter  of 
Prince  Nikolai  Sergieevitch  Volkonsky. 

Thus,  like  most  of  his  illustrious  predecessors  in 
the  field  of  Russian  literature — Lomonosof  and 
Dostoyevski  being  notable  exceptions — he  was 
of  noble  birth  and  patrician  education.  The  fact 
that  literature  in  Russia  has  been  the  favorite, 
almost  exclusively,  of  the  aristocratic  and  edu- 
cated classes,  has  contributed  not  a  little  to  the 
high  standard  of  literary  art  and  the  purity  of 
taste  among  her  writers.  Lomonosof  had  little 
art  and  less  taste.-  Dostoyevski,  although  a  great 
author,  was  deficient  in  artistic  skill,  and  his  taste 
was  often  bad.  It  was  the  high-born  writers- 
Pushkin,  Lermontof,  Turgenief,  Tolstoi — who  set 
a  standard  of  taste  and  artistic  achievement 
unattained  in  point  of  purity  and  power  by  the 
literature  of  any  other  people. 

Of  Tolstoi's  childhood  we  know  nothing, 
except  what  may  be  dimly  gathered  from  his  first 
published  work,  a  novel,  entitled  "  Childhood  " — 
followed  later  by  "  Boyhood  "  and  "  Youth  " — in 
which  the  leading  incidents  and  chief  characteris- 
tics of  his  own  early  life  are  doubtless  reflected. 
In  1830,  before  he  had  reached  the  age  of  two 
years,  his  mother  died,  leaving  him  and  three 


92  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

elder  brothers  and  a  younger  sister  to  be  educated 
under  the  supervision  of  a  distant  relative, 
Tatyna  Alexandrovna  Yergolskaya  by  name, 
whose  memory  is  warmly  cherished  in  the  Tolstoi 
family. 

The  education  of  the  young  Tolstoi  was  no 
small  undertaking,  even  for  a  woman  of  character 
and  culture,  and  seems  to  have  been  attended 
with  considerable  vexation.  The  work  of  in- 
struction was  committed,  in  the  main,  to  tutors  ; 
some  German,  some  French,  some  Russian,  none 
of  whom  were  retained  through  any  very  length- 
ened term  of  service.  His  love  for  his  German 
teacher  and  his  hatred  for  the  Frenchman  who 
succeeded  him  fill  a  large  space  in  his  "  Child- 
hood." So  far  as  can  be  inferred  from  the  same 
source,  he  was  at  that  time  a  healthy,  sensitive 
and  extravagantly  imaginative  child,  with  a  good 
deal  of  pride,  and  morbidly  sensible  of  his  homely 
flat  nose  and  thick  lips. 

The  family  continued  to  reside  in  the  country 
until  1837,  when  the  entrance  of  the  eldest  son  in 
the  university  seemed  to  render  advisable  the 
removal  of  the  entire  family  to  Moscow.  Scarcely 
had  they  established  themselves  there  when  the 
father  suddenly  died,  leaving  his  affairs  in  great 
confusion.  A  paternal  aunt,  the  Countess  Alex- 
andra Ilinitchna  Osten-Saken,  was  appointed 
guardian  of  the  young  Tolstois  and  decided  at 
once,  from  motives  of  economy,  to  leave  the  two 


THE  STORY  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI'S  LIFE.        93 

elder  children  in  Moscow  and  take  the  other 
three,  together  with  the  ever-devoted  Tatyana 
Yergolskaya,  into  the  country,  where  their  educa- 
tion was  looked  after  in  a  desultory  and  uncer- 
tain way  by  various  tutors. 

In  1840  the  guardian  of  the  Tolstoi  children, 
the  Countess  Osten-Saken,  died,  and  the  guardian- 
ship devolved  upon  another  paternal  aunt,  who, 
with  her  husband,  lived  in  Kazan.  Thither  all 
the  young  Tolstois  were  removed  in  1841,  the 
eldest  being  transferred,  at  his  guardian's  request, 
from  the  university  of  Moscow  to  that  of  Kazan. 
Here,  after  two  years'  preparation,  the  young 
Count  Lyof  Nikolaevitch  entered  the  university 
in  1843  at  tne  a§e  °f  fifteen.  At  this  point  the 
memoirs  contained  in  "  Youth "  become  less 
interesting,  furnishing  the  inference  that  his  life 
as  a  student  was  not  different  from  the  ordinary 
monotony  of  existence  in  Russian  universities 
before  the  days  of  nihilistic  plots.  His  first  inter- 
est in  religious  questions  had  begun  shortly 
before,  about  a  year  after  his  first  removal  to 
Moscow.  Of  this  he  gives  the  following  account 
in  his  "  Confession  "  : 

"  I  remember  once  in  my  twelfth  year,  a  boy 
now  long  since  dead,  Vladimir  M — ,  a  pupil  in  a 
gymnasium,  spent  a  Sunday  with  us  and  brought 
us  the  news  of  the  last  discovery  in  the  gymna- 
sium, namely  :  that  there  was  no  God,  and  that 
all  we  were  taught  on  this  subject  was  a  mere 


94  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

invention  (this  was  in  1838).  I  remember  well 
how  interested  my  elder  brothers  were  in  this 
news.  I  was  admitted  to  their  deliberations,  and 
we  all  eagerly  accepted  the  theory  as  something 
particularly  attractive  and  possibly  quite  true. 
I  remember,  also,  that  when  my  elder  brother 
Demetry,  then  at  the  university,  with  the  impul- 
siveness natural  to  his  character,  gave  himself  up 
to  a  passionate  faith,  began  to  attend  the  church 
services  regularly,  to  fast,  and  to  lead  a  pure  and 
moral  life,  we  all  of  us,  and  some  older  than  our- 
selves, never  ceased  to  hold  him  up  to  ridicule, 
and  for  some  incomprehensible  reason  gave  him 
the  nickname  of  Noah.  I  remember  that  Mous- 
sin  Poushkin,  the  then  curator  of  the  University 
of  Kazan,  having  invited  us  to  a  ball,  tried  to 
persuade  my  brother,  who  had  refused  the  invita- 
tion, by  the  jeering  argument  that  even  '  David 
danced  before  the  Ark.' 

"  I  sympathized  then  with  these  jokes  of  my 
elders,  and  drew  from  them  this  conclusion:  that 
I  was  bound  to  learn  my  catechism  and  to  go  to 
church,  but  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  think  of 
my  religious  duties  more  seriously.  I  also 
remember  that  I  read  Voltaire  when  I  was  very 
young,  and  that  his  tone  of  mockery  amused 
without  disgusting  me.  The  gradual  estrange- 
,  ment  from  all  belief  went  on  in  me  as  it  does  and 
always  has  done  in  those  of  the  same  social  posi- 
tion and  culture." 


THE  STORY  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOTS  LIFE.        95 

The  young  Tolstoi  spent  a  year  in  the  division 
of  Oriental  languages,  after  which  he  passed  to 
the  department  of  jurisprudence,  where  he  re- 
mained two  years.  At  the  end  of  that  time  he 
suddenly  resolved  to  leave  the  university  without 
completing  his  course.  This  resolution  seems  to 
have  been  due  to  a  fresh  desire  for  the  country 
life  of  his  childhood,  aroused  by  the  preparations 
of  his  brother  for  departure  to  the  country  home 
at  Yasnaya  Polyana,  after  having  passed  the 
final  examinations. 

No  entreaties  or  arguments — even  when  used 
by  the  rector  and  professors  of  the  university — 
were  powerful  enough  to  dissuade  him  from  this 
course,  and  accordingly  to  Yasnaya  Polyana, 
which  had  fallen  to  him  in  the  division  of  his 
father's  estates,  he  went,  in  the  spring  of  1846. 

Here,  for  the  next  five  years,  his  life  furnished 
no  material  for  the  biographer.  He  lived  unin- 
terruptedly-in  the  country  until  1851.  What  his 
mental  occupations  were,  whether  he  wrote  any- 
thing during  this  period,  or  when  the  instinct  of 
authorship  first  seized  him,  is  altogether  un- 
known. 

At  the  age  of  twenty-three  he  quitted  the 
estate  and  accompanied  his  brother  to  the  Cauca- 
sus, where  the  latter  had  been  serving  in  the 
Junker's  corps.  He  was  entirely  captivated  by 
the  wild  charms  of  this  rugged  and  picturesque 
region,  as  well  as  by  the  new  type  of  humanity 


g6  A  KUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

which  he  found  there,  and  resolved  to  enter  the 
service,  and  accordingly  joined  the  same  battery 
with  his  brother.  It  is  probable  that  the  literary 
impulse  first  attacked  him  here,  under  the  inspira- 
tion of  his  romantic  surroundings,  for  it  is  cer- 
tain that  his  first  published  work — a  novel  under 
the  title  of  "  Childhood  " — was  written  during 
this  period.  Besides,  he  also  wrote  at  this  time 
"  The  Cossacks,"  so  much  admired  by  Turgenief, 
"  The  Incursion,"  and  "  The  Felling  of  the 
Forest." 

For  two  years  he  served  in  the  Caucasus  as  a 
common  soldier,  after  which,  on  the  outbreak  of 
the  Crimean  war,  he  was  transferred,  at  his  own 
request,  to  the  army  of  the  Danube.  Here  he 
served  in  the  campaign  of  1854  on  the  staff  of 
Prince  Gortchakoff.  Going  afterwards  to  Sevas- 
topol, he  was  made  commander  of  a  division. 
During  this  period  he  began  those  wonderfully 
vivid  descriptions  of  military  life  which  first  made 
him  famous  as  a  writer.  "  Military  Tales  "  was 
succeeded  by  "  Sevastopol  in  May  "  and  "  Sevas- 
topol in  December." 

In  1855  Count  Tolstoi  went  on  the  retired  list, 
and  entered  actively  on  his  renowned  and  brill- 
iant career  as  a  writer.  "  Youth,"  "  Sevastopol  in 
August,"  "  Two  Hussars,"  "  Three  Deaths," 
"  Family  Happiness,"  and  "  Polikuschka," 
appeared  in  rapid  succession,  and  raised  him  at 
once  to  the  foremost  rank  among  authors.  Con- 


THE  STORY  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI'S  LIFE.        97 

earning  his  life  in  those  years,  he  speaks  as  fol- 
lows in  "  My  Confession  "  : 

"  I  cannot  now  recall  those  years  without  a 
painful  feeling  of  horror  and  loathing.  I  put  men 
to  death  in  war,  I  fought  duels  to  slay  others,  I 
lost  at  cards,  wasted  my  substance  wrung  from 
the  sweat  of  peasants,  punished  the  latter  cruelly, 
rioted  with  loose  women,  and  deceived  men. 
Lying,  robbery,  adultery  of  all  kinds,  drunken- 
ness, violence,  and  murder,  all  committed  by  me, 
not  one  crime  omitted,  and  yet  I  was  not  the  less 
considered  by  my  equals  a  comparatively  moral 
man.  Such  was  my  life  during  ten  years. 

"  During  that  time  I  began  to  write,  out  of 
vanity,  love  of  gain,  and  pride.  I  followed  as  a 
writer  the  same  path  which  I  had  chosen  as  a 
man.  In  order  to  obtain  the  fame  and  the  money 
for  which  I  wrote,  I  was  obliged  to  hide  what 
was  good  and  bow  down  before  what  was  evil. 
How  often,  while  writing,  have  I  cudgeled  my 
brains  to  conceal  under  the  mask  of  indifference 
or  pleasantry  those  yearnings  for  something 
better,  which  formed  the  real  problem  of  my  life  ! 
I  succeeded  in  my  object  and  was  praised.  At 
twenty-six  years  of  age,  on  the  close  of  the  war, 
I  came  to  St.  Petersburg  and  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  authors  of  the  day.  I  met  with  a 
hearty  reception  and  much  flattery. 

"  Before  I  had  time  to  look  around,  the  prej- 
udices and  views  of  life  common  to  the  writers 


98  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

of  the  class  with  which  I  associated  became  my 
own,  and  completely  put  an  end  to  all  my  former 
struggles  after  a  better  life.  These  views,  under 
the  influence  of  the  dissipation  into  which  I  had 
plunged,  issued  in  a  theory  of  life  which  justified 
it.  The  view  of  life  taken  by  these  my  fellow- 
writers  was,  that  life  is  a  development,  and  the 
principal  part  in  that  development  is  played  by 
ourselves,  the  thinkers,  while  among  the  thinkers 
the  chief  influence  is  again  due  to  ourselves,  the 
poets.  Our  vocation  is  to  teach  mankind. 

"  In  order  to  avoid  answering  the  very  natural 
question,  '  What  do  I  know,  and  what  can  I  teach  ?' 
the  theory  in  question  is  made  to  contain  the 
formula  that  such  is  not  required  to  be  known, 
but  that  the  thinker  and  the  poet  teach  uncon- 
sciously. I  was  myself  considered  a  marvellous 
litterateur  and  poet,  and  I,  therefore,  very  natur- 
ally adopted  this  theory.  Meanwhile,  thinker  and 
poet  though  I  was,  I  wrote  and  taught  I  knew 
not  what.  For  doing  this  I  received  large  sums 
of  money.  I  kept  a  splendid  table,  had  an  excel- 
lent lodging,  associated  with  loose  women,  and 
received  my  friends  handsomely  ;  moreover,  I  had 
fame.  It  would  seem,  then,  that  what  I  taught 
must  have  been  good  ;  the  faith  in  poetry  and  the 
development  of  life  was  a  true  faith,  and  I  was 
one  of  its  high  priests,  a  post  of  great  importance 
and  of  profit.  I  long  remained  in  this  belief,  and 
never  once  doubted  its  truth. 


THE  STO&Y  OF  COUNT  TO LS TOTS  LIFE.       99 

"  In  the  second,  however,  and  especially  in  the 
third  year  of  this  way  of  life,  I  began  to  doubt 
the  infallibility  of  the  doctrine,  and  to  examine  it 
more  closely.  The  first  doubtful  fact  which 
attracted  my  attention  was  that  the  apostles  of 
this  belief  did  not  agree  among  themselves. 
They  disputed,  quarrelled,  abused,  deceived  and 
cheated  one  another.  Moreover,  there  were 
many  among  us  who,  quite  indifferent  to  right  or 
wrong,  only  cared  for  their  own  private  interests. 
All  this  forced  on  me  doubts  as  to  the  truth  of 
our  belief.  Again,  when  I  doubted  this  faith  in 
the  influence  of  literary  men,  I  began  to  examine 
more  closely  into  the  character  and  conduct  of  its 
chief  professors,  and  I  convinced  myself  that 
these  writers  were  men  who  led  immoral  lives, 
most  of  them  worthless  and  insignificant  individ- 
uals, and  far  beneath  the  moral  level  ^of  those 
with  whom  I  had  associated  during  my  former 
dissipated  and  military  career  ;  these  men,  how- 
ever, had  none  the  less  an  amount  of  self-confi- 
dence only  to  be  expected  in  those  who  are 
conscious  of  being  saints,  or  in  those  for  whom 
holiness  is  an  empty  name. 

"  I  grew  disgusted  with  mankind  and  with  my- 
self, and  I  understood  that  this  belief  which  I  had 
accepted  was  a  delusion.  The  strangest  thing  in 
all  this  was  that  though  I  soon  saw  the  falseness 
of  this  belief  and  renounced  it,  I  did  not  renounce 
the  position  I  had  gained  by  it  ;  I  still  called  my- 


100  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

self  a  thinker,  a  poet,  and  a  teacher.  I  was  simple 
enough  to  imagine  that  I,  the  poet  and  thinker, 
was  able  to  teach  other  men  without  knowing 
myself  what  it  was  that  I  attempted  to  teach.  I 
had  only  gained  a  new  vice  by  my  companionship 
with  these  men  ;  it  had  developed  pride  in  me  to 
a  morbid  extreme,  and  my  self-confidence  in 
teaching  what  I  did  not  know  amounted  almost 
to  insanity.  When  I  now  think  over  that  time, 
and  remember  my  own  state  of  mind,  and  that  of 
these  men  (a  state  of  mind  common  enough 
among  thousands  still)  it  seems  to  me  pitiful,  ter- 
rible and  ridiculous  ;  it  excites  the  feelings  which 
overcome  us  as  we  pass  through  a  madhouse. 
We  were  all  then  convinced  that  it  behooved  us 
to  speak,  to  write,  and  to  print  as  fast  as  we 
could,  as  much  as  we  could,  and  that  on  this 
depended  the  welfare  of  the  human  race.  Hun- 
dreds of  us  wrote,  printed  and  taught,  and  all  the 
while  confuted  and  abused  each  other.  Quite 
unconscious  that  we  ourselves  knew  nothing,  that 
to  the  simplest  of  all  problems  in  life — what  is 
right  and  what  is  wrong — we  had  no  answer,  we 
all  went  on  talking  together  without  one  to  listen, 
at  times  abetting  and  praising  one  another  on 
condition  that  we  were  abetted  and  praised  in 
turn,  and  again  turning  upon  each  other  in  wrath 
— in  short,  we  reproduced  the  scenes  in  a  mad- 
house. 

"  Hundreds  of  exhausted  laborers  worked  day 


THE  STORY  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOTS  LIFE.      IOI 

and  night,  putting  up  the  type  and  printing  mill- 
ions of  pages,  to  be  spread  by  the  post  all  over 
Russia,  and  still  we  continued  to  teach,  unable 
to  teach  enough,  angrily  complaining  the  while 
that  we  were  not  listened  to.  A  strange  state 
of  things,  indeed,  but  now  it  is  clear  enough. 
The  real  motive  that  inspired  all  our  reason- 
ing was  the  desire  for  money  and  praise,  to 
obtain  which  we  knew  of  no  other  means  than 
writing  books  and  newspapers.  In  order,  how- 
ever, while  thus  uselessly  employed,  to  hold  fast 
to  the  conviction  that  we  were  really  of  impor- 
tance to  society,  it  was  necessary  to  justify  our 
occupation  to  ourselves  by  another  theory,  and 
the  following  was  the  one  we  adopted  :  '"Whatever 
is,  is  right  ;  everything  that  is,  is  due  to  develop- 
ment, and  the  latter  again  to  civilization  ;  the 
measure  of  civilization  is  the  figure  to  which  the 
publication  of  books  and  newspapers  reaches  ;  we 
are  paid  and  honored  for  the  books  and  news- 
papers which  we  write,  and  we  are,  therefore,  the 
most  useful  and  best  of  all  citizens.' 

"This  reasoning  might  have  been  conclusive, 
had  we  all  been  agreed  ;  but,  as  for  every  opinion 
expressed  by  one  of  us  there  instantly  appeared, 
from  another,  one  diametrically  opposite,  we  had 
to  hesitate  before  accepting  it.  But  this  we 
passed  over  ;  we  received  money  and  were 
praised  by  those  who  agreed  with  us,  conse- 
quently we  were  in  the  right.  It  is  now  clear  to 


1O2  A  RUN  .THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

me  that  between  ourselves  and  the  inhabitants  of 
a  madhouse  there  was  no  difference  ;  at  the  time 
I  only  vaguely  suspected  this,  and,  like  all  mad- 
men, thought  all  were  mad  except  myself." 

It  was  during  this  time  of  brilliant  outward 
success  that  Count  Tolstoi  began  to  be  perplexed 
about  the  value  of  his  ideals,  the  meaning  of  life, 
and  the  uselessness  of  all  effort  in  the  direction 
of  progress  and  perfection.  He  had  held  to  the 
doctrine  of  progress  or  development  with  a  sort 
of  superstition — as  the  only  philosophy  which 
gave  life  a  meaning  and  made  effort  rational. 
The  first  protest  within  him  against  this  super- 
ficial doctrine  arose  on  the  side  of  feeling  rather 
than  of  reason,  as  indicated  in  the  following 
paragraph  from  "  My  Confession  "  : 

"  Thus,  during 'my  stay  in  Paris,  the  sight  of  a 
public  execution  revealed  to  me  the  weakness  of 
my  superstitious  belief  in  progress.  When  I  saw 
the  head  divided  from  the  body,  and  heard  the 
sound  with  which  they  fell  separately  into  the 
box,  I  understood,  not  with  my  reason,  but  with 
my  whole  being,  that  no  theory  of  the  wisdom  of 
all  established  things,  nor  of  progress,  could  jus- 
tify such  an  act  ;  and  that  if  all  the  men  in  the 
world,  from  the  day  of  creation,  by  whatever 
theory,  had  found  this  thing  necessary,  it  was  not 
so  ;  it  was  a  bad  thing,  and  that,  therefore,  I 
must  judge  of  what  was  right  and  necessary,  not 
by  what  men  said  and  did,  not  by  progress,  but 
what  I  felt  to  be  true  in  my  heart." 


THE  STORY  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOTS  LIFE.     103 

The  death  of  his  brother,  after  a  year  of  pain- 
ful illness,  also  filled  him  with  anxious  question- 
ings which  the  doctrine  of  development  could 
no  more  satisfy  than  the  inquiry,  "  Where  are  we 
to  steer  ?"  of  a  man  drifting  in  a  boat  could  be 
answered  by  saying,  "  We  are  being  carried  some- 
where." 

Partly  to  quiet  his  mental  unrest  by  work  of  a 
more  practical  and  beneficent  kind,  he  devoted 
himself,  after  returning  a  second  time  from 
abroad,  in  1861,  to  schemes  and  labors  in  the  way 
of  popular  education,  with  special  reference  to 
the  improvement  of  the  serfs  who  had  just  been 
freed.  He  became  a  local  magistrate  or  arbitra- 
tor, established  schools  for  the  instruction  of  the 
ignorant  and  edited  an  educational  journal.  But 
his  mind  was  profoundly  dissatisfied  with  his 
work.  He  felt  that  he  was  assuming  the  function 
of  teacher  without  knowing  what  or  how  to 
teach,  and  finally,  worn  out  by  the  inward  strug- 
gle and  intolerable  contradiction,  he  gave  up  all 
and  started  for  the  steppes  to  recuperate  his 
wasted  energies. 

Soon  after  his  return,  in  1862,  he  married,  and 
for  fifteen  years  the  happiness  of  his  married  life, 
together  with  the  new  cares  and  occupations 
which  it  brought,  served  to  quiet  the  inward  tur- 
moil from  which  he  suffered,  and  his  rising  doubts 
were  kept  in  abeyance. 

"  In  this  way,"  says  he,  "  fifteen  years  passed. 


IO4  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

Notwithstanding  that  during  these  fifteen  years  I 
looked  upon  the  craft  of  authorship  as  a  very 
trifling  thing,  I  still  continued  to  write.  ...  In 
my  writings  I  taught  what  for  me  was  the  only 
truth,  that  the  object  of  life  should  be  our  own 
happiness  and  that  of  our  family."  It  was  during 
these  years  that  he  wrote  "  War  and  Peace,"  and 
"  Anna  Karenina." 

But  such  a  conflict  as  had  been  awakened  in 
him  could  not  be  long  postponed  or  easily  allayed. 
There  was  nothing  new  or  unusual  in  his  state  of 
mind,  but  he  could  not  rest  short  of  some 
explanation  or  doctrine  that  would  lend  validity 
to  existence  and  answer  for  a  working  theory  of 
life.  He  recognized  that  he  was  mentally  ill — 
afflicted  with  the  measles  of  doubt — and  he  could 
find  no  peace  until  the  evil  disease  should  be 
expelled  and  health  and  soundness  restored.  He 
was  in  search  of  a  faith,  and  could  not  rest  until 
he  found  it.  Schopenhauer's  pessimism  brought 
him  no  relief,  for  it  left  no  logical  or  consistent 
course  but  suicide,  and  for  suicide  he  was  not 
prepared.  So  long  as  he  was  willing  to  live  he 
could  not  without  self-stultification  accept  the 
creed  of  the  pessimist.  He  could  not  tell  why  he 
desired  to  live,  unless  it  was  in  order  that  he 
might  clear  up  his  mental  confusion,  but  he  was 
not  willing  to  take  his  own  life,  and  kept  sharp 
watch  over  himself,  even  to  the  hiding  of  a  piece 
of  cord,  to  avoid  the  temptation  to  hang  himself 
in  some  moment  of  sudden  impulse. 


THE  STORY  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI'S  LIFE.     105 

To  give  the  solution  of  these  difficulties  which 
he  finally  reached  and  describe  the  faith  which 
restored  harmony  to  his  life  would  be  to  repro- 
duce the  entire  substance  of  his  two  books,  "My 
Confession,"  and  "  My  Religion  " — a  task  which 
is  impossible  within  the  limits  of  the  present 
volume.  But  that  this  passage  in  his  experience 
is  the  one  which  most  characteristically  sets 
forth  the  future  of  the  man  and  the  phase  of  his 
work  in  which  he  penetrates  farthest  into  the 
core  of  reality,  there  can  be  no  manner  of  doubt. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE    WRITTEN    WORKS   OF    COUNT    TOLSTOI. 

THE  one  impression  made  upon  the  minds  of 
these  travellers  in  Russia,  whenever  they  met  the 
friends  and  family  and  admirers  of  Count  Tolstoi, 
was,  that  it  was  a  great  pity  "  Leo "  should 
abandon  the  congenial  work  of  fiction  for  the 
harder  school  of  the  moralist,  the  reformer,  and 
the  Scriptural  Exegete. 

At  the  Winter  Palace  and  the  Marble  Palace, 
as  well  as  on  Prince  Ourouzeff's  plantation,  the 
sigh  of  regret  was  heard  on  all  sides,  "  Oh,  if  Leo 
would  only  keep  to  his  stories,  and  let  his  reforms 
alone  !  " 

This  sigh  of  the  Russian  social  world  over  the 
moral  waywardness  of  Tolstoi's  genius,  was  every- 
where most  marked.  Miss  Isabel  Hapgood,  in 
her  preface  to  the  translations  of  Tolstoi's 
"Childhood,  Boyhood  and  Youth,"  remarks,  "It 
is  to  be  hoped  that  he  will  return  to  literature,  as 
Turgenief  besought  him  upon  his  death-bed  to 
do,  and  that  he  will,  at  some  future  day,  complete 
these  memoirs." 

But  the  almost  universal  condemnation  of 
Count  Tolstoi's  story,  "  The  Kreutzer  Sonata," 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       107 

shows  us,  most  unmistakably,  that  the  morbid 
element  in  his  mind  is  more  baleful  in  the  real- 
istic realm  of  Zola's  specialty,  than  in  the  less 
attractive  fields  of  morals,  theology  and  political 
economy. 

Count  Tolstoi  has  done  his  best  work  as  a 
novelist  already,  and,  in  his  present  mood  of 
mind,  it  were  better  for  him  to  move  onward  up 
to  ethical  problems,  than  to  linger  over  the  field 
where  his  distorted  and  diseased  imagination  can 
hold  sway. 

That  Count  Tolstoi  is  a  man  of  genius  and  one 
of  the  most  sincere  and  original  thinkers  of  his 
time,  no  one  at  all  acquainted  with  his  writings 
will  think  of  questioning.  Nor  will  close  scru- 
tiny of  his  life  fail  to  show  him  also  a  man  of 
high  moral  qualities,  and  strong  instincts  for  the 
right,  however  they  may  have  been  repressed  and 
obscured  by  the  contagious  vices  of  the  courtly 
social  world  of  Russia,  which,  in  his  earlier  years, 
held  him,  almost  by  force,  in  its  embrace  ;  and, 
however  one-sided  and  unsatisfactory  his  latest 
speculations  upon  the  issues  of  life  and  death 
may  seem  to  us,  whatever  may  be  its  limitations 
of  one  kind  or  another,  Count  Tolstoi's  genius  is 
certainly  of  a  very  high  order,  and  of  an  extraor- 
dinary character.  And  it  is  especially  wonder- 
ful in  this*  that  its  varied  manifestations  give 
assurance  that  it  would  have  made  him  eminent 
in  whatever  field,  for  intellectual  effort,  he  might 


108  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

have  sought  eminence  with  any  persistent  energy  ; 
in  any  aim  in  which  he  could  have  had  a  full  and 
continuous  faith  to  inspire  him  with  such  persist- 
ence. His  discussion  of  military  affairs  and 
tactics  in  many  of  his  works,  and,  especially  his 
treatment  of  great  movements  in  the  Russo- 
Napoleonic  wars,  show  that  there  was  in  him  the 
making  of  a  great  commander,  if  only,  for  any 
considerable  time,  he  had  had  the  ambition  and 
opportunity  to  become  such.  It  is,  perhaps, 
evidence  of  a  still  higher  genius,  that  he  had  the 
power  of  will  and  of  conscience  calmly  to  cast 
away  that  ambition. 

Almost  simultaneously  with  his  brief  but  brill- 
iant army  life,  began  his  splendid  achievements 
as  a  novelist,  among  which  we  include  his  grand 
early  portraiture  of  man  and  nature  in  the  Cauca- 
sus ;  and  no  critic,  except  himself,  in  his  later  mor- 
bid mood,  will  think  of  denying  the  magnificence 
of  his  genius  in  this  field.  Then  came  his  life  as 
a  philanthropist,  a  teacher  of  the  most  ignorant 
classes  in  schools,  by  himself  and  through  others, 
as  he  had  before  thought  to  teach  the  educated 
classes  through  his  books  ;  and  a  benefactor  in 
every  way  that  he  could  devise,  of  a  crushed  and 
degraded  peasantry. 

And  here,  in  the  execution  of  his  plans,  he 
often  fell  short  of  what  a  shrewd  a*nd  practical 
man  of  mere  talent,  with  the  same  aims,  would 
have  accomplished.  In  the  infinite  pity  of  his 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       1 09 

great  heart,  for  his  poorer  countrymen,  he  un- 
doubtedly made  the  great  mistake  of  believing 
that  the  wrongs  of  centuries  can  be  righted 
instantly  at  the  will  of  any  man  or  set  of  men, 
however  powerful.  He  did  not  recognize  that 
the  comfort,  the  prosperity,  the  virtues  of  a 
class  or  race,  are  things  of  growth,  to  be  culti- 
vated patiently  as  well  as  vigorously,  and  not  a 
structure  to  be  hastily  erected  upon  the  ruins  of 
one  as  hastily  demolished.  But,  notwithstanding 
all  this,  we  must  recognize  a  noble  and  beneficent 
genius  in  the  scope  of  the  ideal  field  of  effort 
and  sacrifice  which  he  marked  out  for  himself, 
and  all  whom  he  could  persuade  to  follow  him,  in 
behalf  of  the  class  which  he  believed  had  been 
long  robbed  and  oppressed  by  himself,  his  ances- 
tors and  the  class  to  which  he  and  they  belonged. 

An  ideal  of  conduct,  which  seems  too  lofty  for 
the  common  world  of  to-day,  may,  if  held  up  by 
the  hand  of  genius,  become  the  standard  of  every- 
day thought  for  the  next  generation  ;  and,  as  in 
Count  Tolstoi's  case,  may  at  once  begin  to  in- 
fluence those  whom  it  cannot  absolutely  control. 

Finally,  his  observations  as  a  philanthropist, 
and  his  consequent  study  of  the  Scriptures,  have 
made  Count  Tolstoi  the  founder  of  a  new  sect,  or, 
as  one  of  his  admirers  puts  it  more  strongly,  the 
prophet  of  a  new  religion.  And  here,  again,  we 
discover  that  it  is  the  force  of  his  marvellous 
genius  which  enables  him  to  command  the  re- 


I IO  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

spectful  and  admiring  attention  of  the  world  to 
teachings,  most  of  which  would  be  scouted  if 
presented  by  a  writer  of  merely  ordinary  talent. 

In  all  the  phases  of  his  life,  as  a  man  of  thought 
and  action,  Count  Tolstoi  is  still  the  man  of 
genius.  If  we  ask  what  are  the  elements  of  that 
genius,  the  analysis  is  not  difficult.  In  one  of 
his  later  penitential  confessions,  he  declares, 
regretfully,  that  at  one  period  of  his  life  he  wor- 
shipped "  the  Ego,"  and  at  another  "  Force." 
And  yet,  in  a  certain  sense,  a  little  varying  from 
his  own  definitions,  "  the  Ego  "  and  "  Force  "  are 
the  very  foundations  of  his  genius,  and  of  all  that 
it  has  accomplished.  His  intense  personality  is 
apparent  in  all  his  writings  and  all  his  acts,  con- 
stantly and  conspicuously,  beyond  precedent  fur- 
nished by  any  other  author.  And,  as  we  find 
him  now  in  the  last  phase  of  his  life— that  of  self- 
renunciation — he  believes  that  he  has  entirely 
renounced  "  the  worship  of  the  '  Ego,'  "  while,  in 
fact,  it  is  more  completely  his  master  than  it  was 
when  he  believed  that  he  was  worshipping  it, 
since  the  real  object  of  his  idolatry  was  the 
phantasm  of  a  corrupt  life,  which  enveloped  it 
and  concealed  him  from  himself.  Now,  it  is  his 
own  observations  of  life,  his  own  study  of  the 
Scriptures  in  their  original  tongues,  his  own  logic 
in  interpreting  them,  that  make  him  "the  prophet 
of  a  new  religion."  By  reading,  by  travel,  by 
personal  intercourse  with  scholars  in  theology,  he 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       1 1  I 

has  become  familiar  with  all  the  creeds  of  the 
world,  and  the  authorities  upon  which  they  are 
based,  only  to  renounce  all  allegiance  to  any  and 
all  of  them,  and  submit  himself  to  the  rule  of 
"the  Ego."  Intellectually,  he  himself  is  now 
sole  lord  of  himself. 

Moreover,  his  personal  force,  his  vigor  of  mind 
and  body,  native  in  a  great  degree,  but  sedulously 
and  painfully  cultivated,  is  a  foundation-stone  of 
his  genius,  without  which  the  superstructure  could 
not  have  arisen.  Few  of  the  elements  which  we 
find  in  that  superstructure  could  have  belonged  to 
a  mind  deficient  in  mental  or  moral  force,  or,  in- 
deed, which  was  not  endowed  with  both  in  a 
measure  far  beyond  that  of  most  eminent  authors. 
That  Count  Tolstoi  does  possess  this  quality  in 
that  super-eminent  degree  is  apparent  to  all  sym- 
pathetic readers  of  his  books.  They  recognize, 
with  delight,  the  vigorous  spirit  of  the  mind 
which  comes  in  contact  with  their  own,  and  find 
themselves,  at  least  for  a  moment  and  in  some 
degree,  imbued  with  its  healthfulness  ;  for  mental 
health — and,  for  that  matter,  physical  health — 
may  be  as  contagious  as  disease.  If  Leo  Tolstoi 
could  not  rightfully  be  a  worshipper  of  force,  he 
might  well  thankfully  worship  the  Power  which 
endowed  him  with  it,  and  with  the  will  to  increase 
and  discipline  it. 

Not  the  least  essential  element  in  his  genius  for 
authorship  is  his  surpassing  faculty  for  observing 


112  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

and  memorizing  events,  scenes  and  persons. 
No  details  escape  him  ;  none  are  dimly  seen  ;  none 
are  forgotten  ;  and,  however  diverse  in  kind,  and 
however  numerous  they  may  be,  they  never  ob- 
scure or  distort  his  view  of  the  grand  whole. 
This  faculty,  together  with  his  admirable  skill  in 
constructing  his  stories,  renders  the  result  of  his 
studies  from  life  in  that  form — like  paintings  in 
which  a  strong  grasp  of  outline  and  a  bold  dash  in 
bringing  out  salient  features  are  combined  with  an 
exquisite  finish  of  minutiae — so  inwrought  on  the 
canvas  that,  while  they  do  not  disturb  the  first 
vivid  impression  they  add  to  that  which  grows  upon 
him  under  the  continued  contemplation  of  any  true 
masterpiece.  This  is  a  combination  rare  in  the 
painter's  art,  and  certainly  not  less  rare  in  the  art 
of  the  novelist:  With  the  doubtful  exception  of 
Dickens,  we  find  it  in  no  voluminous  writer  in 
such  perfection  as  in  Tolstoi.  With  him,  as  a 
novelist,  the  faculty  for  observing  and  memoriz- 
ing is  indispensable.  His  stories  are  mosaics, 
composed  of  bits  of  fact  and  thought — very  rarely 
bits  of  fancy — so  arranged  and  shaded  into  each 
other  as  to  form  pictures  strictly  after  real  life 
as  he  has  observed  it.  It  was  needful  that  his 
mind  should  be  plentifully  supplied  with  material 
for  these  mosaics,  and  that  each  should  be  at 
instant  command  when  its  place  in  the  picture  was 
ready  for  it.  Something  of  the  value  of  such 
collected  material  to  the  novelist  may  be  learned 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       113 

from  Hawthorne's  Note-books.  But  Hawthorne's 
material  of  this  kind  was  carefully  noted  down, 
while  Tolstoi,  although  he  had  his  full  note-books 
had,  as  well,  a  memory  still  more  abundantly 
stored.  Contrary  to  what  this  difference  would 
seem  to  indicate,  Hawthorne  idealizes  almost 
everything  which  he  touches  ;  Tolstoi  almost 
nothing.  In  his  novels  he  shows  little  imagina- 
tion beyond  what  is  needful  to  arrange  his 
material  in  a  consecutive  and  effective  narrative 
form.  It  is  his  clear,  vigorous,  vivacious  style, 
with  the  earnest  opinions  and  quick,  deep  feel- 
ings that  inspire  it,  which  gives  this  indefinable 
charm  to  his  books.  We  perceive  constantly 
that  what  we  read  is  not  only  realistic,  but,  in 
the  mind  of  the  writer,  absolutely  and  intensely 
real.  The  imagination  exercised  is  no  more  than 
a  good  historian  uses  in  giving  truthful  form  and 
spirit  to  his  story,  while  strictly  conforming  to 
the  many  sources  of  information  from  which  it  is 
derived.  It  is  very  near  akin  to  that  which  en- 
ables a  great  pleader  in  a  criminal  case,  bound  by 
all  the  laws  of  evidence,  to  frame  from  the  testi- 
mony of  many  discordant  witnesses  a  theory  sat- 
isfactory to  the  jury. 

Tolstoi's  extraordinary  faculty  of  observation 
and  memory  must  surely  be  accounted  a  very 
substantial  element  in  his  genius  as  a  novelist, 
while  that  of  imagination  contributes  very  little, 
until  we  reach  his  latest  works  in  a  novel  form. 


I  14  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

In  one  of  these  later  stories,  one  of  his  heroes  is 
depicted  as  a  disappointed  devotee  of  a  mystic- 
politico  religion,  which  he  represents  as  at  least 
one  form  of  freemasonry.  Here  his  imagination 
found  full,  but  not  absolutely  free,  play.  It  is 
still  governed  by  his  keen  and  profound,  if  some- 
times too  jealous,  knowledge  of  men.  This,  how- 
ever, was  the  connecting  link  between  Tolstoi  the 
novelist,  severely  portraying  real  life,  and  Tolstoi 
the  religious  and  political  reformer,  with  all  that 
he  had  learned  of  reality  in  the  past  and  present 
beneath  his  feet,  reaching  upward  to  an  ideal 
future  only  to  be  attained  by  crushing  out  of  ex- 
istence all  that  characterizes  and  rules  the  present, 
which  he  regards  as  only  a  superficially  refined 
form  of  an  evil  past.  In  his  writings  upon  relig- 
ious, political  and  cognate  moral  themes,  he 
gives  evidence  of  his  broad  and  accurate  learning, 
and  of  his  extended  observation  of  facts  affecting 
these  themes  ;  but  these  are  hardly  more  than 
prosaic  aids  in  their  study  and  exposition.  It  is 
the  glorious  and  lofty  imagination  of  the  lover  of 
his  kind,  become  poet — perhaps  prophet — in  his 
ideal  conception  of  its  better  future,  which  gives 
their  peculiar  tone  to  Count  Tolstoi's  latest 
writings,  and  raises  them  to  the  rank  of  works  of 
genius. 

But  there  is  another  element  in  Tolstoi's  genius 
from  which,  more  than  any  other,  it  derives  its 
most  peculiar  and  characteristic  tone  ;  and  this  is 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.        \  I  5 

his  profound  capacity  for  introspection,  and  his 
habit  of  exercising  it  constantly  upon  himself,  and 
in  the  study  of  other  minds  when   he  finds  occa- 
sion for  it.     In  regard  to  himself,  the  impulse  of 
self-study,  self -judgment,  self-revelation,  seems  to 
have  been   irresistible.     Even    in  his   most  frivo- 
lous and  dissolute  early  years,  we  find  it  compel- 
ling him  to  look  into  his  inner  life,  with  the  result 
of   self-condemnation  which  finally  drove  him  to 
pursuits  at   least    outwardly  more    pure.     But    it 
also  furnished  him  with  material  to  be  interwoven 
into  many  novels  and  to  give  color   to  them.     In 
each  succeeding    period  of    his  life,  we  find  this 
habitual    self-introspection    operating    with  ever 
increasing  force  ;  always,  after  awhile,  rendering 
him  dissatisfied — the  more   proper  word  may  be 
disgusted — with  his  present  stage  of  advancement 
and  painfully  forcing  him   on    to   the  next  step. 
His  self-judgment  may  often  be   too  severe  and 
unqualified  ;    his   transition    from   one     phase    of 
thought,    feeling   and   belief    may  be  abnormally 
abrupt  ;  but,    however    violent    these    transitions 
may  be,  he  always  takes  with  him  from  one  plane 
of  life  to  another,  not  only  his  accumulated  store 
of  facts  and  learning,  but  also  that  flood  of  feel- 
ing whose  slender  fountain  we  see  in  his  earliest 
life,  and  which  we  can  watch,  as,  swelling  in  vio- 
lence,   it  grows  more  and    more    impetuous   and 
irresistible.     To  change  the  metaphor,  the  germs 
of    his   latest   beliefs    and    governing   principles 


Il6  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

appear  in  his  earliest  expressions  of  thought  and 
feeling ;  and  we  can  easily  watch  their  develop- 
ment and  growth  from  seed-time  to  harvest.  It 
is  all  apparent  in  his  books,  to  which  it  always 
gives  their  tone,  color  and  direction.  It  is  often 
said  that  he  is  himself  the  hero  of  his  own  stories, 
and  this  is  literally  true  of  the  earlier  ones, — 
"  The  Cossacks,"  "  Childhood,  Boyhood  and 
Youth,"  and  several  of  his  shorter  but  quite  as 
interesting  and  characteristic  tales. 

In  his  later  novels  the  conflicting  moods  and 
opinions  which  are  agitating  his  own  mind  are 
divided  among  appropriate  characters  ;  three  at 
least  being  thus  inspired  in  one  work,  "  War  and 
Peace."  But,  invariably,  however  introduced, 
what  he  sees  in  his  inmost  self  is  reflected  with 
realistic  vividness.  His  very  latest  works  are 
avowedly  autobiographical. 

The  elements  which  go  to  make  up  Count 
Tolstoi's  genius  are  these  :  intense  personality; 
healthful,  masculine  force  in  all  his  nature,  both 
mental  and  physical  ;  unequalled  powers  of  obser- 
vation and  memory  ;  an  exceptionally  keen  and 
profound  faculty  of  introspection,  unflinchingly 
and  unsparingly  exercised  upon  himself  ;  extreme 
conscientiousness  and  never-failing  fidelity  to 
truth  ; — these,  with  such  modicum  of  imagination 
as  is  indispensable  to  make  their  fruits  available 
for  the  purpose  of  the  novelist  ;  and  such  larger 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.        1 1/ 

proportion  of  that  faculty  in  later  years  as  carried 
him  into  regions  of  a  higher  idealism. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  there  can  be 
no  intelligent  consideration  of  works  inspired  by 
a  genius  like  this,  without  a  parallel  consideration 
of  the  life  of  the  author.  It  is  the  excess  in 
Count  Tolstoi  of  the  qualities  named,  which  so 
closely  identifies  him  with  his  books,  that  they 
cannot  well  be  treated  separately.  It  is  this,  also, 
which  gives  them  their  admirable  realism  and 
earnestness,  which  constantly  says  to  the  reader, 
"This  is  no  soothing  amusement  for  a  leisure 
hour  that  I  offer  you,  but  a  faithful  picture  of 
the  world  and  the  evil  which  is  in  it,  for  you 
and  me  to  remedy,  as  we  have  helped  to  create 
it.  It  is  the  social  life  in  whose  grossest  vices 
I  have  participated,  that  I  now  arraign  before 
.the  tribunal  of  society's  conscience,  as  I  have 
already  arraigned  it  before  my  own.  It  is  the 
robbery  and  oppression  by  which  we  of  the  rul- 
ing class  have  long  crushed  to  earth  the  poor 
and  the  weak,  of  which  I  ask  you  to  repent  and 
aid  me  in  redressing.  In  the  guise  of  fiction,  I 
present  to  you,  as  vividly  as  I  can,  those  great 
truths  which  should  inspire  you  with  an  earnest 
purpose  to  do  what  in  you  lies  to  serve  the  right 
and  overthrow  the  wrong." 

It  is  true  that  in  none  of  his  novels  does  he 
avow  any  such  noble  purpose,  and  that  in  his 
confessions  he  expressly  disclaims  any  except 


Il8  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

low  and  selfish  motives  for  authorship.  Never- 
theless, those  which  we  have  ascribed  to  him 
appear  more  and  more  clearly  in  each  succeeding 
publication  ;  more  and  more  governing  their 
character,  until,  in  the  latest,  they  seem  to  have 
attained  to  absolute  control.  Consciously  or 
unconsciously,  he  is  always  the  teacher  of  right- 
eousness, without  parading  it  as  his  mission.  He 
paints  the  vices  of  his  age  and  nation,  but  even 
while  he  describes  himself  indulging  in  them — 
never  in  such  form  as  to  make  them  attractive. 
To  be  sure  he  tells  the  story  of  gambling,  adul- 
tery, drunkenness  and  other  national  vices  with 
true  Russian  nonchalance,  rarely  expressing  any 
abhorrence  of  them  in  terms — rarely  denouncing 
them  as  sins.  Thus,  in  his  great  novel  "  Anna 
Karenina,"  where  a  life  of  illicit  love  ends  in  utter 
misery  and  suicide,  he  by  no  means  characterizes 
this  as  a  special  judgment  in  punishment  for  a 
violation  of  the  seventh  commandment,  but  as  the 
logical  and  inevitable  consequence  of  such  a  life, 
even  when  led  by  a  man  and  woman  to  whom  he 
ascribes  all  noble  qualities  not  inconsistent  with 
it.  Throughout  his  works,  as  in  this,  we  still  find 
him  invariably  teaching,  as  the  result  of  his 
observation  of  life,  the  one  old  lesson  of  all  lives, 
that 

"  Sorrow  follows  wrong 
As  echo  follows  song, 

On,  on  forever." 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       I  19 

It  is  a  natural  inquiry  in  regard  to  an  author, 
What  conditions  and  experiences  of  life  gave  him 
his  opportunities  for  observation,  and  inspired 
him  with  the  deep  feeling  which  he  exhibits  from 
the  first,  and  which  has  finally  overmastered  him  ? 

But  great  as  are  Count  Tolstoi's  novels,  his  re- 
ligious writings  show  even  more  genius.  No 
such  book  of  probing,  searching,  moral  value  has 
appeared  since  St.  Augustine's  Confession,  as 
Tolstoi's  wonderful  work,  "  My  Confession," 
which,  in  some  way,  seems  to  put  a  new  flooring 
into  the  worn-out  moral  tone  of  those  who  have 
pondered  its  meaning.  And  the  seven  discourses 
which  follow  this  work  and  which  are  called  "  The 
Spirit  of  Christ's  Teachings,"  reveal  a  depth  of 
spiritual  insight  and  an  originality  of  exegesis  in 
the  study  of  the  Bible,  which  remind  us  of  the 
fearless  common-sense  of  John  Bunyan  in  his 
"  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  or  Sir  Thomas  Browne  in 
his  "  Religio  Medici,"  and  prepare  us  for  that 
original  interpretation  of  the  Scriptures  which 
marks  the  pages  of  his  later  theological  work, 
"  My  Religion." 

As  an  illustration  of  his  original  and  penetrat- 
ing method  of  interpreting  familiar  passages  in 
the  Word  of  God,  let  the  following  passages  speak 
for  themselves  : 

"  If  there  are  any  who  doubt  the  life  beyond  the 
grave  and  salvation  based  upon  redemption,  none 
can  doubt  the  salvation  of  all  men,  and  of  each 


120  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

individual  man,  if  they  will  accept  the  evidence 
of  the  destruction  of  the  personal  life  and  follow 
the  true  way  to  safety  by  bringing  their  personal 
wills  into  harmony  with  the  will  of  God.  Let 
each  man  endowed  with  reason  ask  himself, 
What  is  life  ?  and  What  is  death  ?  and  let  him  try 
to  give  life  and  death  another  meaning  than 
that  revealed  by  Jesus,  and  he  will  find  that 
any  attempt  to  find  in  life  a  meaning  not  based 
upon  the  renunciation  of  self,  the  service  of 
humanity,  of  the  Son  of  man,  is  utterly  futile. 
It  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  personal  life  is  con- 
demned to  destruction  and  that  a  life  conforma- 
ble to  the  will  of  God  alone  gives  the  possibility 
of  salvation.  It  is  not  much  in  comparison  with 
the  sublime  belief  in  the  future  life  !  It  is  not 
much,  but  it  is  sure. 

"I  am  lost  with  my  companions  in  a  snow- 
storm. One  of  them  assures  me,  with  the  utmost 
sincerity,  that  he  sees  a  light  in  the  distance,  but 
it  is  only  a  mirage  which  deceives  us  both  ;  we 
strive  to  reach  this  light,  but  we  never  can  find 
it.  Another  resolutely  brushes  away  the  snow  ; 
he  seeks  and  finds  the  road,  and  he  cries  to  us, 
'  Go  not  that  way,  the  light  you  see  is  false,  you 
will  wander  to  destruction  ;  here  is  the  road,  I 
felt  it  beneath  my  feet  ;  we  are  saved  !  '  It  is 
very  little,  we  say.  We  had  faith  in  that  light 
that  gleamed  in  our  deluded  eyes,  that  told  us  of 
a  refuge,  a  warm  shelter,  rest,  deliverance, — and 


WRITTEN  WORK'S  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.        121 

now,  in  exchange  for  it,  we  have  nothing  but  the 
road.  Ah,  but  if  we  continue  to  travel  towards 
the  imaginary  light,  we  shall  perish  ;  if  \ve  follow 
the  road,  we  shall  surely  arrive  at  a  haven  of 
safety. 

"  What,  then,  must  I  do,  if  I,  alone,  understand 
the  doctrine  of  Jesus,  and  I,  alone,  have  trust  in 
it  among  a  people  who  neither  understand  it  nor 
obey  it?  What  ought  I  to  do — to  live  like  the  rest 
of  the  world,  or  to  live  according  to  the  doctrine 
of  Jesus?  I  understood  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  as 
expressed  in  his  commandments,  and  1  believed 
that  the  practice  of  these  commandments  would 
bring  happiness  to  me  and  to  all  men.  I  under- 
stood that  the  fulfillment  of  these  command- 
ments is  the  will  of  (rod,  the  source  of  life. 
More  than  this,  I  saw  that  I  should  die  like  a 
brute  after  a  farcical  existence  if  I  did  not  ful- 
fill the  will  of  God,  and  that  the  only  chance  of 
salvation  lay  in  the  fulfillment  of  his  will.  In  fol- 
lowing the  example  of  the  world  about  me  I 
should  unquestionably  act  contrary  to  the  welfare 
of  all  men,  and,  above  all,  contrary  to  the  will  of 
the  Giver  of  Life  ;  I  should  surely  forfeit  the  sole 
possibility  of  bettering  my  desperate  condition. 
In  following  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  I  should  con- 
tinue the  work  common  to  all  men  who  had  lived 
before  me  ;  I  should  contribute  to  the  welfare  of 
my  fellows  and  of  those  who  were  to  live  after 
me  ;  I  should  obey  the  command  of  the  Giver  of 


122  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

t 

Life  ; — I  should  seize  upon  the  only  hope  of  sal- 
vation. 

"  The  circus  at  Berditchef  is  in  flames.  A 
crowd  of  people  are  struggling  before  the  only 
place  of  exit, — a  door  that  opens  inward.  Sud- 
denly, in  the  midst  of  the  crowd,  a  voice  rings 
out :  '  Back,  stand  back  from  the  door ;  the 
closer  you  press  against  it,  the  less  the  chance  of 
escape  ;  stand  back  ;  that  is  your  only  chance  of 
safety  !  ' 

"  Whether  I  am  alone  in  understanding  this 
command  or  whether  others  with  me  also  hear 
and  understand,  I  have  but  one  duty,  and  that  is, 
from  the  moment  I  have  heard  and  understood,  to 
fall  back  from  the  door,  and  to  call  on  everyone 
to  obey  the  voice  of  the  Saviour.  ,1  may  be  suffo- 
cated, I  may  be  crushed  beneath  the  feet  of  the 
multitude,  I  may  perish  ;  my  sole  chance  of 
safety  is  to  do  the  one  thing  necessary  to  gain  an 
exit.  And  I  can  do  nothing  else.  A  saviour 
should  be  a  saviour,  that  is,  one  who  saves.  And 
the  salvation  of  Jesus  is  the  true  salvation.  He 
came,  He  preached  His  doctrine,  and  humanity  is 
saved. 

"  The  circus  may  burn  in  an  hour,  and  those 
penned  up  in  it  may  have  no  time  to  escape. 
But  the  world  has  been  burning  for  eighteen  hun- 
dred years.  It  has  burned  ever  since  Jesus  said, 
'/  am  come  to  send  fire  on  the  earth  ;  '  and  I  suffer 
as  it  burns  :  and  it  will  continue  to  burn  until 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.         123 

humanity  is  saved.  Was  not  this  fire  kindled  that 
men  might  have  the  felicity  of  salvation  ?  Under- 
standing this,  I  understood  and  believed  that 
Jesus  is  not  only  the  Messiah — that  is,  the 
Anointed  One,  the  Christ — but  that  He  is  in 
truth  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  I  know  that  He 
is  the  only  way  ;  that  there  is  no  other  way  for 
me,  or  for  those  who  are  tormented  with  me  in 
this  life.  I  know  that  for  me,  as  for  all,  there  is 
no  other  safety  than  the  fulfillment  of  the  com- 
mandments of  Jesus,  who  gave  to  all  humanity 
the  greatest  conceivable  sum  of  benefits.  Would 
there  be  great  trials  to  endure  ?  Should  I  die  in 
following  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  ?  This  question 
did  not  alarm  me.  It  might  seem  frightful  to 
anyone  who  does  not  realize  the  nothingness  and 
absurdity  of  an  isolated  personal  life,  and  who 
believes  that  he  will  never  die.  But  I  know  that 
my  life,  considered  in  relation  to  my  individual 
happiness,  is,  taken  by  itself,  a  stupendous  farce, 
and  that  this  meaningless  existence  will  end  in  a 
stupid  death.  Knowing  this,  I  have  nothing  to 
fear.  I  shall  die  as  all  others  die  who  do  not 
observe  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  ;  but  my  life  and  my 
death  will  have  a  meaning  for  myself  and  for 
others.  My  life  and  my  death  will  have  added 
something  to  the  life  and  salvation  of  others,  and 
this  will  be  in  accordance  with  the  doctrine  of 
Jesus." 

The  following  passage,  or  table,  is,  after  all,  a 


124  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

clear  insight  into  the  very  heart  of  all  Tolstoi's 
religious  writings  : 

"  There  is  no  man  that  hath  left  house,  or  breth- 
ren, or  sisters,  or  mother,  or  father,  or  children,  or 
lands,  for  my  sake  and  for  the  Gospel's  sake,  but 
he  shall  receive  a  hundredfold  now  in  this  time, 
houses,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  and  mothers, 
and  children,  and  lands  with  persecutions,  and,  in 
the  age  to  come,  eternal  life."  (Mark  10  :  28-30.) 

"Jesus  declared  it  is  true  that  those  who  follow 
His  doctrine  must  expect  to  be  persecuted  by 
those  who  do  not  follow  it  ;  but  He  did  not  say 
that  His  disciples  will  be  the  worse  off  for  that 
reason.  On  the  contrary,  He  said  that  His  dis- 
ciples would  have,  here  in  this  world,  more  bene- 
fits than  those  who  did  not  follow  Him.  That 
Jesus  said  and  thought  this  is  beyond  a  doubt,  as 
the  clearness  of  His  words  on  this  subject,  the 
meaning  of  His  entire  doctrine,  His  life  and  the 
life  of  His  disciples,  plainly  show.  But  was  His 
teaching  in  this  respect  true  ? 

"  When  we  examine  the  question  as  to  which  of 
the  two  conditions  would  be  the  better,  that  of  the 
disciples  of  Jesus  or  that  of  the  disciples  of  the 
world,  we  are  obliged  to  conclude  that  the  condi- 
tion of  the  disciples  of  Jesus  ought  to  be  the  most 
desirable,  since  the  disciples  of  Jesus,  in  doing 
good  to  everyone,  would  not  arouse  the  hatred  of 
men.  The  disciples  of  Jesus,  doing  evil  to  no  one, 
would  be  persecuted  only  by  the  wicked.  The 


WRITTEN  WO  UK'S  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.         125 

disciples  of  the  world,  on  the  contrary,  are  likely 
to  be  persecuted  by  everyone,  since  the  law  of 
the  disciples  of  the  world  is  the  law  of  each 
for  himself — the  law  of  struggle,  that  is,  of  mutual 
persecution.  Moreover,  the  disciples  of  Jesus 
would  be  prepared  for  suffering,  while  the  disci- 
ples of  the  world  use  all  possible  means  to  avoid 
suffering.  The  disciples  of  Jesus  would  feel  that 
their  sufferings  were  useful  to  the  world  ;  but  the 
disciples  of  the  world  do  not  know  why  they  suf- 
fer. On  abstract  grounds,  then,  the  condition  of 
disciples  of  Jesus  would  be  more  advantageous 
than  that  of  the  disciples  of  the  world.  But  is  it 
so  in  reality  ?  To  answer  this,  let  each  one  call 
to  mind  all  the  painful  moments  of  his  life,  all  the 
physical  and  moral  sufferings  that  he  has  endured; 
and  let  him  ask  himself  if  he  has  suffered  these 
calamities  in  behalf  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
world  or  in  behalf  of  the  doctrine  of  Jesus. 
Every  sincere  man  will  find,  in  recalling  his  past 
life,  that  he  has  never  once  suffered  for  practising 
the  doctrine  of  Jesus.  He  will  find  that  the 
greater  part  of  the  misfortunes  of  his  life  have 
resulted  from  following  the  doctrines  of  the  world. 
In  my  own  life  (an  exceptionally  happy  one  from 
a  worldly  point  of  view)  I  can  reckon  up  as  much 
suffering  caused  by  following  the  doctrine  of  the 
world  as  many  a  martyr  has  endured  for  the  doc- 
trine of  Jesus.  All  the  most  painful  moments  of 
my  life,  the  orgies  and  duels  in  which  I  took  part 


126  A  RUN  l^HROUGH  RUSSIA. 

as  a  student,  the  wars  in  which  I  have  partici- 
pated, the  diseases  I  have  endured,  and  the 
abnormal  and  insupportable  conditions  under 
which  I  now  live,  all  these  are  only  so  much 
martyrdom  exacted  by  fidelity  to  the  doctrine  of 
the  world.  But  I  speak  of  a  life  exceptionally 
happy  from  a  worldly  point  of  view.  How  many 
martyrs  have  suffered  for  the  doctrine  of  the 
world  torments  that  I  should  find  difficulty  in 
enumerating  ! 

"We  do  not  realize  the  difficulties  and  dangers 
entailed  by  the  practice  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
world,  simply  because  we  are  persuaded  that  we 
could  not  do  otherwise  than  follow  that  doctrine. 
We  are  persuaded  that  all  the  calamities  that,  we 
•inflict  upon  ourselves  are  the  result  of  the  inevi- 
table conditions  of  life,  and  we  cannot  understand 
that  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  teaches  us  how  we  may 
rid  ourselves  of  these  calamities  and  render  our 
lives  happy.  To  be  able  to  reply  to  the  question, 
Which  of  these  two  conditions  is  the  happier  ?  we 
must,  at  least  for  the  time  being,  put  aside  our 
prejudices,  and  take  a  careful  survey  of  our  sur- 
roundings. Go  through  our  great  cities  and 
observe  the  emancipated,  sickly,  and  distorted 
specimens  of  humanity  to  be  found  therein  ;  recall 
your  own  existence  and  that  of  the  people  with 
whose  lives  you  are  familiar  ;  recall  the  instances 
of  violent  deaths  and  suicides  of  which  you  have 
heard, — and  ask  yourself  for  what  cause-  all  this 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.      \2/ 

suffering  and  death,  this  despair  that  leads  to 
suicide,  has  been  endured.  You  will  find,  perhaps 
to  your  surprise,  that  nine-tenths  of  all  human 
suffering  endured  by  men  is  useless,  and  ought 
not  to  exist,  that,  in  fact,  the  majority  of  men  are 
martyrs  to  the  doctrine  of  the  world. 

"  One  rainy  autumn  day  I  rode  on  the  tramway 
by  the  Sukhareff  Tower  in  Moscow.  For  the  dis- 
tance of  half  a  verst  the  vehicle  forced  its  way 
through  a  compact  crowd  which  quickly  reformed 
its  ranks.  From  morning  till  night  these  thou- 
sands of  men — the  greater  portion  of  them  starv- 
ing and  in  rags — tramped  angrily  through  the 
mud,  venting  their  hatred  in  abusive  epithets  and 
acts  of  violence.  The  same  sight  may  be  seen  in 
all  the  market-places  of  Moscow.  At  sunset  these 
people  go  to  the  taverns  and  gaming-houses  ;  their 
nights  are  passed  in  filth  and  wretchedness. 
Think  of  the  lives  of  these  people,  of  what  they 
abandon  through  choice  for  their  present  condi- 
tion ;  think  of  the  heavy  burden  of  labor  without 
reward  which  weighs  upon  these  men  and  women, 
and  you  will  see  that  they  are  true  martyrs.  All 
these  people  have  forsaken  houses,  lands,  parents, 
wives,  children  ;  they  have  renounced  all  the  com- 
forts of  life,  and  they  have  come  to  the  cities  to 
acquire  that  which  according  to  the  gospel  of  the 
world  is  indispensable  to  every  one.  And  all 
these  tens  of  thousands  of  unhappy  people  sleep  in 
hovels,  and  subsist  upon  strong  drink  and  wretched 


128  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

food.  But,  aside  from  this  class — all,  from  factory 
workman,  cab-driver,  sewing  girl,  and  lorette,  to 
merchant  and  government  official — all  endure  the 
most  painful  and  abnormal  conditions  without 
being  able  to  acquire  what,  according  to  the 
doctrine  of  the  world,  is  indispensable  to  each." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  WRITTEN   WORKS, OF    COUNT   TOLSTOI. 
(Continued.) 

"  SEEK,  among  all  these  men,  from  beggar  to 
millionaire,  one  who  is  contented  with  his  lot,  ami 
you  will  not  find  one  such  in  a  thousand.  Each 
one  spends  his  strength  in  pursuit  of  what  is  ex- 
acted by  the  doctrine  of  the  world,  and  of  what 
he  is  unhappy  not  to  possess  ;  and  scarcely,  has 
he  obtained  one  object  of  his  desires  when  he 
strives  for  another,  and  still  another,  in  that  infi- 
nite labor  of  Sisyphus  which  destroys  the  lives  of 
men.  Run  over  the  scale  of  individual  fortunes, 
ranging  from  a  yearly  income  of  300  roubles  to 
50,000  roubles,  and  you  will  rarely  find  a  person 
who  is  not  striving  to  gain  400  roubles  if  he  have 
300  ;  500  if  he  have  400,  and  so  on  to  the  top  of 
the  ladder.  Among  them  all  you  will  rarely  find 
one  who,  with  500  roubles,  is  willing  to  adopt  the 
mode  of  life  of  him  who  has  only  400.  When 
such  an  instance  does  occur,  it  is  not  inspired  by 
a  desire  to  make  life  more  simple,  but  to  amass 
money  and  make  it  more  sure.  Each  strives, 
continually,  to  make  the  heavy  burden  of  existence 
still  more  heavy,  by  giving  himself  up,  body  and 
soul,  to  the  practice  of  the  doctrine  of  the  world. 


130  A  RUN  7'H ROUGH  RL'SSIA. 

To-day  we  must  buy  an  overcoat  ancl  galoches,  to- 
morrow a  watch  and  chain  ;  the  next  day  we  must 
install  ourselves  in  an  apartment  with  a  sofa  and 
a  bronze  lamp  ;  then  we  must  have  carpets  and 
velvet  gowns,  horses  and  carriages,  paintings  and 
decorations,  and  then — then  we  fall  ill  of  overwork 
and  die.  Another  continues  the  same  task,  sacri- 
fices his  life  to  the  same  Moloch,  and  then  dies 
also  without  realizing  for  what  he  has  lived.  But, 
possibly,  this  existence  is  in  itself  attractive  ? 
Compare  it  with  what  men  have  always  called 
happiness,  and  you  will  see  that  it  is  hideous. 
For  what,  according  to  the  general  estimate,  are 
the  principal  conditions  of  earthly  happiness  ? 

"  I.  One  of  the  first  conditions  of  happiness  is 
that  the  link  between  man  and  nature  shall  not 
be  severed — that  is,  that  he  shall  be  able  to  see 
the  sky  above  him,  and  that  he  shall  be  able  to 
enjoy  the  sunshine,  the  pure  air,  the  fields  with 
their  verdure,  their  multitudinous  life.  Men  have 
always  regarded  it  as  a  great  unhappiness  to.  be 
deprived  of  all  these  things,  but  what  is  the  con- 
dition of  those  men  who  live  according  to  the 
doctrine  of  the  world  ?  The  greater  their  success 
in  practising  the  doctrine  of  the  world,  the  more 
they  are  deprived  of  these  conditions  of  happiness. 
The  greater  their  worldly  success,  the  less  they 
are  able  to  enjoy  the  light  of  the  sun,  the  freshness 
of  the  fields  and  woods,  and  all  the  delights  of 
country  life.  Many  of  them — including  nearly  all 


WRITTEN  WOKKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       1  3  I 

the  women — arrive  at  old  age  without  having  seen 
the  sun  rise,  or  the  beauties  of  the  early  morning  ; 
without  having  seen  a  forest,  except  from  a  seat 
in  a  carriage  ;  without  ever  'having  planted  a 
field  or  a  garden,  and  without  having  the  least 
idea  as  to  the  ways  and  habits  of  dumb  animals. 
These  people,  surrounded  by  artificial  light, 
instead  of  sunshine,  look  only  upon  fabrics  of 
tapestry,  and  stone,  and  wood,  fashioned  by  the 
hand  of  man.  The  roar  of  machinery,  the  roll  of 
vehicles,  the  thunder  of  cannon,  the  sound  of  mu- 
sical instruments  are  always  in  their  ears  ;  they 
breathe  an  atmosphere  heavy  with  distilled  per- 
fumes and  tobacco  smoke.  Because  of  the  weak- 
ness of  their  stomachs,  and  their  depraved  tastes, 
they  eat  rich  and  highly  spiced  food.  When  they 
move  about  from  place  to  place,  they  travel  in 
closed  carriages  ;  when  they  go  into  the  country 
they  have  the  same  fabrics  beneath  their  feet  ; 
the  same  draperies  shut  out  the  sunshine  ;  and 
the  same  array  of  servants  cut  off  all  communi- 
cation with  the-  men,  the  earth,  the  vegetation, 
and  the  animals  about  them.  Wherever  they  go, 
they  are  like  so  many  captives  shut  out  from  the 
conditions  of  happiness.  As  prisoners  sometimes 
console  themselves  with  a  blade  of  grass  that 
forces  its  way  through  the  pavement  of  their 
prison-yard,  or  make  pets  of  a  spider  or  a  mouse, 
so  these  people  sometimes  amuse  themselves  with 
sickly  plants,  a  parrot,  a  poodle,  or  a  monkey,  to 


132  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

whose  needs,  however,  they  do  not  themselves 
administer. 

"  II.  Another  inevitable  condition  of  happiness 
is  WORK  :  first,  intellectual  labor  that  one  is  free 
to  choose  and  love  ;  secondly,  the  exercise  of 
physical  power  that  brings  a  good  appetite,  and 
tranquil  and  profound  sleep. 

"  Here,  again,  the  greater  the  imagined  pros- 
perity that  falls  to  the  lot  of  men,  according  to 
the  doctrine  of  the  world,  the  more  such  men  are 
deprived  of  this  condition  of  happiness.  All  the 
prosperous  people  of  the  world — the  men  of  dig- 
nity and  wealth — are  as  completely  deprived  of 
the  advantages  of  work  as  if  they  were  shut  up  in 
solitary  confinement.  They  struggle  unsuccess- 
fully with  the  diseases  caused  by  the  need  of 
physical  exercise,  and  with  -the  ennui  which  pur- 
sues them — unsuccessfully,  because  labor  is  a 
pleasure  only  when  it  is  necessary — and  they  have 
need  of  nothing  ;  or,  they  undertake  work  that  is 
odious  to  them,  like  the  bankers,  solicitors, 
administrators,  and  government  officials  ;  and  their 
wives,  who  plan  receptions  and  routs,  and  devise 
toilettes  for  themselves  and  their  children.  (I  say 
odious,  because  I  never  yet  met  any  person  of 
this  class  who  was  contented  with  his  work  or 
took  as  much  satisfaction  in  it  as  the  porter  feels 
in  shoveling  away  the  snow  from  before  their 
doorsteps.)  All  these  favorites  of  fortune  are 
either  deprived  of  work  or  are  obliged  to  work  at 


WRITTEN  WORK'S  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       133 

what  they  do  not  like,  after  the  manner  of  crimi- 
nals condemned  to  hard  labor. 

"  III.  The  third  undoubted  condition  of  happi- 
ness is  the  family.  But  the  more  men  are  en- 
slaved by  worldly  success,  the  more  certainly  are 
they  cut  off  from  domestic  pleasures.  The 
majority  of  them  are  libertines,  who  deliberately 
renounce  the  joys  of  family  life  and  retain  only 
its  cares.  If  they  are  not  libertines,  their  children, 
instead  of  being  a  source  of  pleasure,  are  a  bur- 
den, and  all  possible  means  are  employed  to  render 
marriage  unfruitful.  If  they  have*  children,  they 
make  no  effort  to  cultivate  the  pleasures  of  com- 
panionship with  them.  They  leave  their  children 
almost  continually  to  the  care  of  strangers,  con- 
fiding them  first  to  the  instruction  of  persons  who 
are  usually  foreigners,  and  then  sending  them  to 
public  educational  institutions,  so  that  of  family 
life  they  have  only  the  sorrows,  and  their  children 
from  infancy  are  as  unhappy  as  their  parents,  and 
wish  their  parents  dead,  that  they  may  become 
the  heirs.  These  people  are  not  confined  in 
prisons,  but  the  consequences  of  their  way  of  liv- 
ing, with  regard  to  the  family,  are  more  melan- 
choly than  the  deprivation  from  domestic  relations 
inflicted  upon  those  who  are  kept  in  confinement 
under  sentence  of  the  law. 

"  IV.  The  fourth  condition  of  happiness  is 
sympathetic  and  unrestricted  intercourse  with  all 
classes  of  men.  And  the  higher  a  man  is  placed 


134  A  KU*  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

in  the  social  scale,  the  more  certainly  is  he  de- 
prived of  this  essential  condition  of  happiness. 
The  higher  he  goes,  the  narrower  becomes  his 
circle  of  associates;  the  lower  sinks  the  moral  and 
intellectual  level  of  those  to  whose  companion- 
ship he  is  restrained. 

"  The  peasant  and  his  wife  are  free  to  enter  into 
friendly  relations  with  everyone,  and  if  a  million 
men  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  them,  there  re- 
main eighty  millions  of  people  with  whom  they 
may  fraternize — from  Archangel  to  Astrakhan — 
without  waiting  for  a  ceremonious  visit  or  an  intro- 
duction. A  clerk  and  his  wife  will  find  hundreds 
of  people  who  are  their  equals;  but  the  clerk  of  a 
higher  rank  will  not  admit  them  to  a  footing  of 
social  equality  ;  and  they,  in  their  turn,  are  ex- 
cluded by  others.  The  wealthy  man  of  the 
world  reckons  by  dozens  the  families  with  whom 
he  is  willing  to  maintain  social  ties — all  the  rest 
of  the  world  are  strangers.  For  the  cabinet- 
minister  and  the  millionaire,  there  are  only  a 
dozen  people  as  rich  and  as  important  as  them- 
selves. For  kings  and  emperors  the  circle  is  still 
more  narrow.  Is  not  the  whole  system  like  a 
great  prison  where  each  inmate  is  restricted  to 
association  with  a  few  fellow-convicts  ? 

"V.  Finally,  the  fifth  condition  of  happiness  is 
bodily  health.  And  once  more  we  find,  that  as  we 
ascend  the  social  scale,  this  condition  of  happi- 
ness is  less  and  less  within  the  reach  of  the 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       135 

followers  of  the  doctrine  of  the  world.  Compare 
a  family  of  medium  social  status  with  a  family  of 
peasants.  The  latter  toil  unremittingly  and  are 
robust  of  body;  the  former  is  made  up  of  men  and 
women  more  or  less  subject  to  disease.  Recall 
to  mind  the  rich  men  and  women  you  have  known 
— are  not  most  of  them  invalids  ?  A  person  of 
that  class  whose  physical  disabilities  do  not 
oblige  him  to  take  a  periodical  course  of  hygienic 
and  medical  treatment,  is  as  rare  as  an  invalid 
among  the  laboring  classes.  All  these  favorites 
of  fortune  are  the  victims  and  practitioners  of 
sexual  vices  that  have  become  a  second  nature, 
and  they  are  toothless,  gray,  and  bald,  at  an  age 
when  a  workingman  is  in  the  prime  of  manhood. 
Nearly  all  are  afflicted  with  nervous  or  other 
diseases  arising  from  excesses  in  eating,  drunken- 
ness, luxury,  and  perpetual  medication.  Those 
who  do  not  die  young,  pass  half  their  lives  under 
the  influence  of  morphine  or  other  drugs,  as  mel- 
ancholy wrecks  of  humanity,  incapable  of  self- 
attention  ;  leading  a  parasitic  existence  like  that 
of  a  certain  species  of  ants  which  are  nourished 
by  their  slaves.  Here  is  the  death  list :  Qne  has 
blown  out  his  brains  ;  another  has  rotted  away 
from  the  effects  of  syphilitic  poison  ;  this  old  man 
succumbed  to  sexual  excess;  this  young  man  to 
a  wild  outburst  of  sensuality  ;  one  died  of  drunk- 
enness, another  of  gluttony,  another  from  the 
abuse  of  morphine,  another  from  an  induced 


I  36  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

abortion.  One  after  another  they  perished — 
victims  of  the  doctrine  of  the  world.  And  a  multi- 
tude presses  on  behind  them,  like  an  army  of 
martyrs,  to  undergo  the  same  sufferings,  the  same 
perdition. 

"  To  follow  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  is  difficult ! 
Jesus  said  that  they  who  would  forsake  houses, 
and  lands,  and  brethren,  and  follow  His  doctrine, 
should  receive  a  hundredfold  in  houses,  and  lands, 
and  brethren  ;  and  besides  all  this,  eternal  life. 
And  no  one  is  willing  even  to  make  the  experi- 
ment. The  doctrine  of  the  world  commands  its 
followers  to  leave  houses,  and  lands,  and  brethren; 
to  forsake  the  country  for  the  filth  of  the  city, 
there  to  toil  as  a  bath-keeper,  soaping  the  backs 
of  others;  as  an  apprentice  in  a  little  underground 
shop,  passing  life  in  counting  copecks;  as  a  prose- 
cuting attorney,  to  serve  in  bringing  unhappy 
wretches  under  condemnation  of  the  law  ;  as  a 
cabinet-minister,  perpetually  signing  documents 
of  no  importance  ;  as  the  head  of  an  army,  killing 
men.  '  Forsake  all  and  live  this  hideous  life  end- 
ing in  a  cruel  death,  and  you  shall  receive  nothing 
in  this  world  or  the  other,'  is  the  command  ;  and 
everyone  listens  and  obeys.  Jesus  tells  us  to  take 
up  the  cross  and  follow  Him,  to  bear  submissively 
the  lot  apportioned  out  to  us.  No  one  hears  His 
words  or  follows  His  command.  But  let  a  man  in 
a  uniform  decked  out  with  gold  lace,  a  man  whose 
specialty  is  to  kill  his  fellows,  say,  '  Take,  not 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       137 

your  cross,  but  your  knapsack  and  carbine  and 
march  to  suffering  and  certain  death,'  and  a 
mighty  host  is  ready  to  receive  his  orders.  Leav- 
ing parents,  wives,  and  children;  clad  in  grotesque 
costumes  ;  subject  to  the  will  of  the  first  comer 
of  a  higher  rank  ;  famished,  benumbed  and  ex- 
hausted by  forced  marches  they  go,  like  a  herd  of 
cattle  to  the  slaughter-house,  not  knowing  where, 
— and  yet  these  are  not  cattle,  they  are  men. 
With  despair  in  their  hearts  they  move  on  to  die 
of  hunger,  or  cold,  or  disease,  or,  if  they  survive, 
to  be  brought  within  range  of  a  storm  of  bullets 
and  commanded  to  kill.  They  kill  and  are  killed, 
no  one  knows  why  or  to  what  end.  An  ambitious 
stripling  has  only  to  brandish  his  sword  and  shout 
a  few  magniloquent  words  to  induce  them  to  rush 
to  certain  death.  And  yet  no  one  finds  this  to 
be  difficult.  Neither  the  victims  nor  those  whom 
they  have  forsaken  find  anything  difficult  in  such 
sacrifices,  in  which  parents  encourage  their  chil- 
dren to  take  part.  It  seems  to  them  not  only 
that  such  should  be,  but  that  they  could  not  be 
otherwise,  and  that  they  are  altogether  admirable 
and  moral." 

Surely  nothing  stronger  than  this  has  been 
written  in  this  century.  It  is  stronger  than  any- 
thing Carlyle  or  Ruskin  have  penned,  simply 
because  the  life  has  been  back  of  the  writing  to 
underscore  it  and  make  it  emphatic. 

The  best  known   of  Count   Tolstoi's  works  are 


138  A   RUN  THROUGH  RUSSJA. 

as  follows  :  "Anna  Karenina,"  "  Childhood,  Hoy- 
hood,  Youth,"  "What  to  Do,"  "Ivan  Ilyitch," 
"  Family  Happiness,"  "  My  Confession,"  "  My 
Religion,"  "  Life,"  "  Napoleon's  Russian  Cam- 
paign," "  Power  and  Liberty,"  "  The  Long  Exile," 
"The  Invaders,"  "A  Russian  Proprietor,"  "  Se- 
bastopol,"  "  The  Cossacks,"  "  War  and  Peace." 

The  Tolstoi  booklets,  already  published,  are  : 
"Where  Love  Is,"  "The  Two  Pilgrims,"  "What 
Men  Live  By  "  ;  and  these  are  each  little  gems, 
full  of  the  fragrance  and  sweetness  of  Hans 
Christian  Andersen. 

Tolstoi's  "  Boyhood,  Childhood  and  Youth " 
is  one  of  the  most  attractive  and  fascinating  bits 
of  autobiography  ever  published,  and  makes  us 
understand  how  the  diary  of  Marie  Bashkirtseff 
•came  to  be  written,  the  former  being  the  memoir 
of  a  Russian  reformer  and  the  latter  the  memoir 
of  a  Russian  artist. 

The  glimpses  we  get  of  the  boy's  life  at  his 
country  home  and  in  the  city  of  Moscow  help  to 
give  us  a  clue  to  the  true  meaning  of  the  man's 
after-life,  and  show  us,  most  unmistakably,  his  re- 
markable insight  into  the  social  life  of  the  Slavic 
people  and  his  marked  preparation  to  be  a  leader 
and  reformer  among  them. 

His  book  entitled,  "What  to  Do,  or  Thoughts 
Evoked  by  the  Census  of  Moscow,"  is  the  most 
radical  and  logical  of  all  his  writings,  and  shows 
us  his  peculiar  principles  of  social  reform  applied 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       139 

with  the  remorseless  rigor  of  John  the  Baptist  in 
the  wilderness  of  the  politico-economical  world 
of  the  Russia  of  to-day.  Let  the  following  ex- 
tracts serve  as  an  illustration  of  his  writing  as  an 
economist  : 

"  I  recollect  once,  while  walking  in  a  street  in 
Moscow,  I  saw  a  man  come  out  and  examine  the 
flagstones  attentively  ;  then,  choosing  one  of 
them,  he  sat  down  by  it  and  began  to  scrape  and 
rub  it  vigorously. 

"  What  is  he  doing  with  the  pavement  ?  I  won- 
dered ;  and  having  come  up  close  to  him  I  dis- 
covered he  was  a  young  man  from  a  butcher's 
shop,  and  he  was  sharpening  his  knife  on  the 
flagstone.  He  was  not  thinking  about  the  stones 
when  examining  them,  and  still  less  while  doing 
his  work  ;  he  was  merely  sharpening  his  knife. 
It  was  necessary  for  him  to  do  so  in  order  to  cut 
the  meat,  but  to  me  it  seemed  that  he  was  doing 
something  to  the  pavement. 

"  In  the  same  way  mankind  seems  to  be  oc- 
cupied with  commerce,  treaties,  wars,  sciences, 
arts  ;  and  yet  for  them  one  thing  only  is  import- 
ant, and  they  only  do  that ;  they  are  elucidating 
those  moral  laws  by  which  they  live. 

"  Moral  laws  are  already  in  existence,  and  man- 
kind has  been  merely  re-discovering  them  :  this 
elucidation  appears  to  be  unimportant  and  imper- 
ceptible to  one  who  has  no  need  of  moral  law, 
and  one  who  does  not  desire  to  live  by  it.  Yet 


I4O  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

this  is  not  only  the  chief,  but  ought  to  be  the 
sole,  business  of  all  men.  This  elucidation  is 
imperceptible  in  the  same  way  as  the  difference 
between  a  sharp  knife  and  a  blunt  one  is  imper- 
ceptible. A  knife  remains  a  knife,  and  one  who 
has  not  got  to  cut  anything  with  it  will  not  notice 
its  edge  ;  but  for  one  who  understands  that  all 
his  life  depends  on  whether  his  knife  is  blunt  or 
sharp,  every  improvement  in  sharpening  it  is 
important  ;  and  such  a  man  knows  that  there 
must  be  no  limit  to  this  improvement,  and  that 
the  knife  is  only  really  a  knife  when  it  is  sharp, 
and  when  it  cuts  what  it  has  to  cut. 

"  The  conviction  of  this  truth  flashed  upon  me 
when  I  began  to  write  my  pamphlet.  Previously 
it  seemed  to  me  that  I  knew  everything  about 
my  subject — that  I  had  a  thorough  understand- 
ing of  everything  connected  with  those  questions 
which  had  been  awakened  in  me  by  the  impres- 
sions made  in  Liapin's  house  during  the  census  ; 
but  when  I  tried  to  sum  them  up  and  put  them  on 
paper,  it  turned  out  that  the  knife  would  not  cut, 
and  had  to  be  sharpened  ;  so  it  is  only  now  after 
three  years  that  I  feel  my  knife  is  sharp  enough 
for  me  to  cut  out  what  I  want. 

"  It  is  not  that  I  have  learned  new  things  :  my 
thoughts  are  still  the  same,  but  they  were  blunt 
formerly  ;  they  kept  scattering  in  every  direc- 
tion ;  there  was  no  edge  to  them  ;  nor  was  any- 
thing brought,  as  it  is  now,  to  the  one  central 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       141 

point,  to  one  most  simple  and  plain  conclu- 
sion. 

"  I  recollect  that  during  the  whole  time  of  my 
unsuccessful  endeavors  to  help  the  unfortunate 
inhabitants  of  Moscow,  I  felt  that  I  was  like  a 
man  trying  to  help  others  out  of  a  morass,  who 
was  himself  all  the  time  stuck  fast  in  it.  Every 
effort  made  me  feel  the  instability  of  the  ground 
upon  which  I  was  standing.  I  was  conscious  that 
I  myself  was  in  this  same  morass ;  but  this 
acknowledgment  did  not  help  me  to  look  more 
closely  under  my  feet,  in  order  to  ascertain  the 
nature  of  the  ground  upon  which  I  stood  ;  I  kept 
looking  for  some  exterior  means  to  remedy  the 
existing  evil. 

"  I  felt  that  my  life  was  a  bad  one,  and  that 
people  ought  not  to  live  so  ;  yet  I  did  not  come 
to  the  most  natural  and  obvious  conclusion,  that 
I  must  first  reform  my  own  mode  of  life  before  I 
should  have  any  conception  of  how  to  reform 
that  of  others.  And  so  I  began  as  it  were  at  the 
wrong  end.  I  was  living  in  town  and  I  desired 
to  improve  the  lives  of  the  men  there  ;  but  I  was 
soon  convinced  that  I  had  no  power  to  do  so,  and 
I  began  to  ponder  over  the  nature  of  town  life 
and  town  misery.  I  said  to  myself,  over  and  over, 
'What  is  this  town  life  and  town  misery?  and 
Why,  while  living  in  town  am  I  unable  to  help 
the  town  poor  ? ' 

"  The  only  reply  I  found  was  that  I  was  power- 


142  A  RUN  THROUGfr  RUSSIA. 

less  to  do  anything  for  them  :  first,  because  there 
were  too  many  collected  together  in  one  place  ; 
secondly,  because  none  of  them  was  at  all  like 
those  in  the  country.  And  again  I  asked  myself, 
'Why  are  there  so  many  here,  and  in  what 
do  they  differ  from  the  country  poor  ? '  To 
both  of  these  questions  the  answer  was  one  and 
the  same.  There  are  many  poor  people  in  towns 
because  there,  all  those  who  have  nothing  to 
subsist  on  in  the  country  are  collected  round  the 
rich,  and  their  peculiarity  consists  only  in  that 
they  have  all  come  into  the  towns  from  the  coun- 
try in  order  to  get  a  living.  (If  there  are  any 
town  poor  born  there  whose  fathers  and  grandfath- 
ers were  town-born,  these  in  their  turn  originally 
came  there  to  get  a  living.)  But  what  are  we  to 
understand  by  the  expression  getting  a  living  in 
town  ?  There  is  something  strange  in  the  expres- 
sion :  it  sounds  like  a  joke  when  we  reflect  on  its 
meaning.  How  is  it  that  from  the  country,  i.  e^ 
from  places  where  there  are  woods,  meadows, 
corn  and  cattle,  where  the  earth  yields  the  treas- 
ures of  fertility — men  come  away  in  order  to  get 
a  living  in  a  place  where  there  are  none  of  these 
advantages  but  only  stones  and  dust  ?  What 
then  do  these  words  signify,  to  get  a  living  in 
town  ? 

"  Such  a  phrase  is  constantly  used  both  by  the 
employed  and  their  employers,  and  that  as  if  it 
were  quite  clear  and  intelligible.  I  remember 


WKITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.      143 

now  all  the  hundreds  and  thousands  of  town  peo- 
ple, well  or  in  want,  with  whom  1  have  spoken 
about  their  object  in  coming  here,  and  all  of 
them,  without  exception,  told  me  they  had  quitted 
their  villages  in  order  to  get  a  living  ;  that  accord- 
ing to  the  proverb,  '  Moscow  neither  sows  nor 
reaps  yet  lives  in  wealth '  ;  that  in  Moscow  there 
is  abundance  of  •  everything  ;  and  that  therefore 
in  Moscow  one  may  get  the  money  which  is 
needed  in  the  country  for  getting  corn,  cottages, 
horses  and  other  essentials  of  life. 

"  But,  in  fact,  the  source  of  all  wealth  is  the 
country  ;  there  only  are  real  riches, — corn,  woods, 
horses  and  everything  necessary.  Why,  then  go 
to  towns  in  order  to  get  what  is  to  be  had  in  the 
country  ?  And  why  should  people  carry  away 
from  the  country  into  the  towns  such  things  as 
are  necessary  for  country  people,— flour,  oats, 
horses  and  cattle  ?  Hundreds  of  times  have  I 
spoken  thus  with  peasants  who  live  in  towns ; 
and  from  my  talks  with  them,  and  from  my  own 
observations,  it  became  clear  to  me  that  the 
accumulation  of  country  people  in  the  cities  is 
partly  necessary,  because  they  could  not  other- 
wise earn  their  livelihood,  and  partly  voluntary, 
because  they  are  attracted  by  the  temptations  of 
a  town  life.  It  is  true  that  the  circumstances  of 
a  peasant  are  such  that  in  order  to  satisfy  the 
pecuniary  demands  made  upon  him  in  his  village, 
he  cannot  do  it  otherwise  than  by  selling  that 


144  A  KUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

corn  and  cattle  which  he  very  well  knows  will  be 
necessary  for  himself  ;  and  he  is  compelled 
whether  he  will  or  not,  to  go  to  town  in  order  to 
earn  back  that  which  was  his  own.  But  it  is  also 
true  that  he  is  attracted  to  town  by  the  charms  of 
a  comparatively  easy  way  of  getting  money,  and 
by  the  luxury  of  life  there  ;  and  under  the  pre- 
text of  earning  his  living  he  goes  there  in  order 
to  have  easier  work  and  better  eating,  to  drink 
tea  three  times  a  day,  to  dress  himself  smartly, 
and  even  to  get  drunk  and  lead  a  dissolute  life. 

"  The  cause  is  a  simple  one,  for  property  pass- 
ing from  the  hands  of  the  agriculturalist  into 
those  of  non-agriculturalists,  thus  accumulates  in 
towns.  Observe  towards  autumn  how  much  wealth 
is  gathered  together  in  villages.  Then  comes 
the  demands  of  taxes,  rents,  recruiting  ;  then  the 
temptations  of  vodka,  marriages,  feasts,  peddlers 
and  all  sorts  of  other  snares  ;  so  that,  in  one  way 
or  other,  this  property  in  all  its  various  forms 
(sheep,  calves,  cows,  horses,  pigs,  poultry,  eggs, 
butter,  hemp,  flax,  rye,  oats,  buckwheat,  peas, 
hemp-seed  and  flax-seed)  passes  into  the  hands  of 
strangers,  and  is  taken  first  to  provincial  towns 
and  from  there  to  the  capitals.  A  villager  is 
compelled  to  dispose  of  all  these  in  order  to 
satisfy  the  demands  made  upon  him,  and  the 
temptations  offered  him — and  having  thus  dis- 
pensed his  goods,  he  is  left  in  want  and  must 
follow  where  his  wealth  has  been  taken  ;  and  there 


WRITTEN  WORK'S  OF  COUNT  TOLSTOI.       145 

he  tries  to  earn  back  the  money  necessary  for  his 
most  urgent  needs  at  home  ;  and  so  being  partly 
carried  away  by  these  temptations  he  himself 
along  with  others,  makes  use  of  the  accumulated 
wealth. 

"Everywhere  throughout  Russia,  and  L  think 
not  only  in  Russia  but  all  over  the  world,  the 
same  thing  happens.  The  wealth  of  country 
producers  passes  into  the  hands  of  trades-people, 
land-owners,  government  officials,  manufacturers  : 
the  men  who  receive  this  wealth  want  to  enjoy  it, 
and  to  enjoy  it  fully,  they  must  be  in  town.  In 
the  village  in  the  first  place,  owing  to  the  inhabi- 
tants being  scattered,  it  is  difficult  for  the  rich  to 
gratify  all  their  desires  :  you  do  not  find  there  all 
sorts  of  shops,  banks,  restaurants,  theatres  and 
various  kinds  of  public  amusements. 

"  Secondly,  another  of  the  chief  pleasures  pro- 
cured by  wealth, — vanity,  the  desire  to  astonish, 
to  make  a  display  before  others, — cannot  be 
gratified  in  the  country  for  the  same  reason,  its 
inhabitants  being  too  scattered.  There  is  no  one 
in  the  country  to  appreciate  luxury  ;  there  is  no 
one  to  astonish.  There,  you  may  have  what  you 
like  to  embellish  your  dwelling,  pictures,  bronze 
statues,  all  sorts  of  carriages,  fine  toilets,  but 
there  is  no  one  to  look  at  them  or  to  envy  you  ; 
the  peasants  do  not  understand  the  value  of  all 
this,  and  cannot  make  head  nor  tail  of  it. 

"'Thirdly,  the    luxury  in    the    country  is  even 


146  A  KUAr  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

disagreeable -to  a  man  who  has  a  conscience,  and 
is  an,,anxiety  to  a  timid  person.  One  feels  uneasy 
or  ashamed  at  taking  a  milk  bath,  or  in  feeding 
puppies  with  milk,  when  there  are  children  close 
by  needing  food  ;  one  feels  the  same  in  building 
pavilions  and  gardens  among  a  people  who  live  in 
cottages  covered  with  stable  litter,  and  who  have 
no  wood  to  burn.  There  is  no  one  in  the  village 
to  prevent  the  stupid,  uneducated  peasants  from 
spoiling  our  comfort. 

"  And,  therefore,  rich  people  gather  together  in  • 
towns  and  settle  near  those  who,  in  similar  posi- 
tions have  similar  desires.  In  towns  the  enjoy- 
ments of  all  sorts  of  luxuries  is  carefully  protected 
by  a  numerous  police.  The  chief  inhabitants  of 
the  town  are  government  functionaries,  round 
whom  all  sorts  of  master  workmen,  artisans,  and 
all  the  rich  people  have  settled. 

"  There  a  rich  man  has  only  to  think  about  any- 
thing in  order  to  get  it.  It  is  also  more  agreeable 
for  him  to  live  there  because  he  can  gratify  his 
vanity  ;  there  are  people  with  whom  he  may  try 
to  compete  in  luxury,  whom  he  may  astonish  or 
eclipse.  But  it  is  especially  pleasant  for  a 
wealthy  man  to  live  in  town,  because,  where  his 
country  life  was  uncomfortable  and  somewhat 
incongruous  on  account  of  his  luxury  ;  in  town,  on 
the  contrary,  it  would  be  uncomfortable  for  him 
not  to  live  splendidly  and  as  his  equals  in  wealth 
do.  '••  .  •*•••  •  • 


WRITTEN  WORKS  OF  COUNT  TO  LSI  Of.       147 

"  Money  !  what  then  is  money  ?  It  is  answered, 
money  represents  labor.  I  meet  educated  people 
who  even  assert  that  money  represents  labor  per- 
formed by  those  who  possess  it.  1  confess  that  1, 
myself,  formerly  shared  this  opinion,  although  1 
did  not  very  clearly  understand  it.  But  now  it 
became  necessary  for  me  to  learn  thoroughly 
what  money  was. 

"  In  order  to  do  so  I  addressed  myself  to 
science.  Science  says  that  money  in  itself  is 
neither  unjust  nor  pernicious  ;  that  money  is  the 
natural  result  of  the  conditions  of  social  life,  and 
is  indispensable,  first,  for  convenience  of  exchange; 
secondly,  as  a  measure  of  value  ;  thirdly,  for  sav- 
'  ing  ;  and  fourthly,  for  payments. 

"  The  evident  fact  that  when  I  have  in  my 
pocket  three  rubles  to  spare,  which  I  am  not  in 
need  of,  I  have  only  to  whistle  and  in  every  civil- 
ized town  I  obtain  a  hundred  people  ready  for  these 
three  rubles,  to  do  the  worst,  most  disgusting  and 
humiliating  act  I  require  ;  and  this  comes,  not 
from  money,  but  from  the  very  complicated  con- 
ditions of  the  economical  life  of  nations. 

"The  dominion  of  one  man  over  others  comes 
not  from  money,  but  from  the  circumstance  that 
a  workingman  does  not  receive  the  full  value  of 
his  labor  ;  and  the  fact  that  he  does  not  get  the 
full  value  of  his  labor,  depends  upon  the  nature  of 
capital,  rent  and  wages  ;  and  upon  complicated 
connections  between  them  and  production  itself  ; 


148  A  RL'X  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

and  between  the  distribution  and  consumption  of 
wealth.  In  plain  language,  it  means  that  those 
who  have  money,  may  twist  around  their  finger 
those  who  have  none.  But  science  says  this  is  an 
illusion  ;  that  in  every  kind  of  production  three 
factors  take  part — land,  savings  of  labor  (capital) 
and  labor  ;  and  that  the  dominion  of  the  few  over 
the  many,  proceeds  from  the  various  connections 
between  these  factors  of  production,  and  because 
the  first  two  factors,  land  and  capital,  are  not  in 
the  hands  of  working  people.  From  this  fact,  and 
from  the  various  conditions  resulting  therefrom, 
proceeds  this  domination. 

"  Whence  comes  this  great  power  of  money, 
which  strikes  us  all  with  a  sense  of  its  injustice 
and  cruelty  ?  Why  ie  one  man  by  the  means  of 
money  to  have  dominion  over  others?  Science 
says  '  It  comes  from  the  division  of  the  agents  of 
production,  and  from  the  consequent  complicated 
combination  which  oppress  the  workingman.' 

"  This  answer  has  always  appeared  to  me  to  be 
strange,  not  only  because  it  leaves  one  part  of  the 
question  unnoticed  ;  namely,  the  signification  of 
money,  but  also  because  of  the  division  of  the 
factors  of  production,  which  to  an  uninformed 
man  will  always  appear  artificial  and  not  in  accord- 
ance with  reality.  It  is  asserted  that  in  every 
production,  three  agents  come  into  operation — 
land,  capital  and  labor  ;  and  along  with  this  divi- 
sion, it  is  understood  that  property  (or  its  value 


WRITTEN  WORK'S  O/<  COUNT  TOJ.STOI.        149 

in  money)  is  divided  among  those  who  possess  one 
of  these  agents.  Thus,  rent — tlu  value  of  the 
ground — belongs  to  the  land-owner  ;  interest  to 
the  capitalist,  and  labor  to  the  workingman." 

"Is  it  really  so?  First,  is  it  true  that  in  every 
production  three  agencies  operate  ?  Now  while  i 
am  writing  this,  around  me  proceeds  the  produc- 
tion of  hay.  Of  what  is  this  production  composed? 
I  am  told  of  the  land  which  produces  the  grass, 
of  capital,  scythes,  rakes,  pitch-forks,  carts,  which 
are  necessary  to  the  housing  of  the  hay,  and  of 
labor.  But  I  see  that  this  is  not  true.  Besides 
the  land,  there  is  the  sun  and  rain  ;  besides  social 
order  which  has  been  keeping  these  meadows  from 
damage,  caused. by  letting  stray  cattle  graze  upon 
them,  the  prudence  of  workingmen,  their  knowl- 
edge of  language,  and  many  other  agencies  of 
production,  which,  for  some  unknown  reason,  are 
not  taken  into  consideration  by  political  economy. 

"  The  power  of  the  sun  is  as  necessary  as  the 
land.  I  may  instance  the  position  of  men  in 
which  (as,  for  instance,  in  a  town)  some  of  them 
assume  the  right  to  keep  out  the  sun  from  others 
by  means  of  walls  or  trees.  Why,  then,  is  this 
sun  not  included  in  the  agents  of  production  ? 

"  Rain  is  another  means  as  necessary  as  the 
ground  itself.  The  air,  too,  I  can  picture  to  my- 
self men  without  water  and  pure  air,  because 
other  men  assume  to  themselves  the  right  to 
monopolize  these,  which  are  essentially  necessary 


I  50  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

to  all.  Public  security  is  likewise  a  necessary 
element ;  food  and  dress  in  workmen  are  similar 
means  in  production  ;  this  last  is  even  recognized 
by  some  economists.  Education,  the  knowledge 
of  language  which  creates  the  possibility  of  reason- 
able work,  is  likewise  an  agent.  1  could  fill  a 
volume  by  enumerating  such  conditions  unnoticed 
by  science.  Why,  then,  are  three  only  to  be 
chosen  and  laid  as  a  foundation  for  the  science  of 
political  economy  ?  Why  are  the  rays  of  the  sun, 
rain,  food,  knowledge,  not  equally  recognized  ? 
Why  only  the  land  ?  the  instruments  of  labor  and 
the  labor  itself  ?  Simply  because  the  right  of 
men  to  enjoy  the  rays  of  the  sun,  rain,  food,  speech 
and  audience  are  challenged  only  on  rare  occa- 
sions ;  but  the  use  of»  land,  and  of  the  instruments 
of  labor  are  constantly  challenged  in  society. 

"This  is  the  true  foundation  for  it;  and  the 
division  of  these  agents  for  production  into  three, 
is  quite  arbitrary  and  is  not  involved  in  the 
nature  of  things.  But  it  may  be,  perhaps,  urged 
that  this  division  is  so  suitable  to  man,  that 
wherever  economical  relationships  form  them- 
selves, there  these  appear  at  once  and  alone." 

Of  Anna  Karenina,  the  best  criticism  is  that  of 
our  own  novelist,  W.  D.  Howells,  whose  pure 
and  beautiful  story,  "  A  Hazard  of  New  For- 
tunes," is  the  nearest  approach  we  have  yet  had 
to  the  long-expected  American  novel,  if,  in  fact, 
it  is  not  the  novel  itself.  It  takes  a  soul  to  find 


WRITTEN  WORK'S  OF  COUNT  TOI.STOI.        I  5  L 

a  soul  ;  it  is  only  a  poet  who  can  rightly  inter- 
pret a  poet,  and  the  judgment  of  one  true  novel- 
ist upon  another,  is  worth  our  careful  consider- 
ation. 

"As  you  read  on  you  say  not,  'This  is  like 
life,'  but,  '  This  is  life.'  It  has  not  only  the  com- 
plexion, the  very  hue  of  life,  but  its  movement, 
its  advances,  its  strange  pauses,  its  seeming  re- 
version to  former  conditions,  and  its  perpetual 
change,  its  apparent  isolations,  its  essential  solid- 
arity. It  is  a  world  and  you  live  in  it  while  you 
read  and  long  afterward  ;  but,  at  no  step  have 
you  been  betrayed,  not  because  your  guide  has 
warned  or  exhorted  you,  but,  because  he  has  been 
true,  and  has  shown  you  all  things  as  they  are." 

Tolstoi's  "  War  and  Peace "  is,  perhaps,  the 
best  known  and  most  read  of  all  his  stories,  and 
leaves  upon  the  mind  the  most  vivid  impression 
of  the  awful  horror  of  war. 

And  now,  after  his  moral  and  religious  writ- 
ings, after  thrilling  us  with  the  radical  simplicity 
of  "  My  Confession,"  and  "  My  Religion,"  we 
find  Count  Tolstoi  returning  in  his  dreadful 
"  Kreutzer  Sonata  "  to  the  "  filth  of  Zola  and  the 
atmosphere  of  Paris  and  a  moral  morgue." 

That  it  is  a  great  mistake  on  his  part,  we  must 
all  admit.  It  does  not  do  to  defend  our  heroes 
when  our  heroes  falter.  But,  at  least,  this  much 
must  be  said,  that  the  motive  of  the  story  was, 
undoubtedly,  to  work  a  reform  in  the  abuse  of 


152  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

the  social  glamour  thrown  around  the  modern 
marriage  market,  and  not  wilfully  to  revel  in  the 
filth  of  such  a  subject. 

Tolstoi  is  a  Russian  with  French  modes  of 
expression,  and  radical  and  fanatical  views  of  the 
social  life  of  to-day  ;  and  the  sound  coming  from 
the  story  has  the  discordant  note  of  a  barbaric 
Chinese  gong  struck  by  a  madman — but  'then, 
everything  depends  upon  the  way  one  strikes  a 
gong  ! 


•     CHAPTER  X. 

THE    DAY    AT    PRINCE    OUROUZEFp'S. 

THE  farm  or  plantation  of  Count  Tolstoi's 
friend  was  a  typical  Russian  farm-house,  with 
hay-mows,  thatched  hamlets,  muddy  roads,  thick 
bushes,  and  shortened  trees  as  the  environment 
of  the  master's  house. 

A  brick  church  and  chapel,  or  school-house, 
built  of  plain  burnt  red  brick,  with  the  usual 
Muscovitish  tower  and  belfry,  indicated  the  pious 
zeal  of  this  stalwart  lay  member  of  the  Greek 
Church,  who  was  as  loyal  to  his  faith  as  we  found 
our  friend  Lieutenant-General  Kireff  had  been. 
He,  too,  had  been  to  the  Bonn  Conference  upon 
Christian  Unity,  and  had  met  the  late  Bishop 
Young  of  Florida,  who  had  also  been  a  delegate 
from  America. 

Prince  Ourouzeff  conducted  his  guests  through 
his  library,  showing  them  his  most  valuable  books, 
his  Hebrew  Scriptures  and  manuscripts,  keeping 
up  a  pleasant  talk  in  broken  English,  which  Count 
Tolstoi  amplified  in  French  and  German,  adding 
shades  of  expression  with  a  pleasant  run  of  banter 
as  to  the  exact  meaning  of  what  was  intended. 

"Ah,"    said     Prince     Ouron^ff.    '"•hen     Count 


154  A  KUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

Tolstoi  had  taken  the  other  two  to  a  distant  cor- 
ner of  the  library  to  inspect  some  valuable  work 
there,  "  Ah !  if  Leo  would  only  keep  to  his  novels 
and  let  his  reforms  alone,  how  much  better  it 
would  be "  ;  a  sentiment  to  which  the  Count 
subsequently  replied  as  follows  :  "  Dear  Ourouzeff, 
he  is  so  good  and  so  pious  !  " 

While  showing  us  his  Hebrew  volumes,  Count 
Tolstoi  whispered,  "  You  do  not  know  how  pious 
Ourouzeff  is  !  He  gets  up  every  morning  at  three 
o'clock  to  read  the  prophets  in  Hebrew  and  the 
Epistles  in  Greek  " — a  custom  which  our  dear  old 
host  seemed  to  think  must  be  a  common  one  with 
the  American  clergy. 

While  looking  over  the  books  we  came  across  a 
copy  of  Derzhavin's  works — a  Russian  poet,  who 
lived  1763-1816,  and  who  was  a  soldier  of  nine- 
teen on  guard  at  the  Winter  Palace,  when  Catha- 
rine ascended  the  throne. 

"  I  think  I  can  quote  you  several  stanzas  in 
English  of  Derzhavin's  Hymn  on  God  "  said  one 
of  the  party,  "  my  mother  taught  it  to  me  when  a 
boy."  Thereupon  the  memory  lasted  long  enough 
to  repeat  the  following  verses  from  Sir  John 
Bowring's  translation  to  these  listening  Rus- 
sians : 

O  Thou  eternal  One  !  whose  presence  bright 
All  space  doth  occupy,  all  motion  guide, 
Unchang'd  through  time's  all-devastating  flight; 
Thou  only  God  !  there  is  no  God  beside  ! 


THE  DAY  AT  PRINCE  O  URO  UZEFF  'S.          155 

Being  above  all  beings  !  Mighty  One  ! 
Whom  none  can  comprehend  and  none  explore; 
Who  fill'st  existence  with  Thyself  alone  : 
Embracing  all, — supporting, — ruling  o'er, — 
Being  whom  we  call  God — and  know  no  more  ! 

In  its  sublime  research,  philosophy 

May  measure  out  the  ocean  deep — may  count 

The  sands  or  the  sun's  rays — but  God  !  for  Thee 

There  is  no  weight  nor  measure  : — none  can  mount 

Up  to  Thy  mysteries ;  reason's  brightest  spark, 

Though  kindled  by  Thy  light,  in  vain  would  try 

To  trace  Thy  counsels,  infinite  and  dark  ; 

And  thought  is  lost  ere  thought  can  soar  so  high, 

Even  like  past  moments  in  eternity. 

A  million  torches  lighted  by  Thy  hand 
Wander  unwearied  through  the  blue  abyss: 
They  own  Thy  power,  accomplish  Thy  command  : 
All  gay  with  life,  all  eloquent  with  bliss, 
What  shall  we  call  them!     Piles  of  crystal  light — 
A  glorious  company  of  golden  streams — 
Lamps  of  celestial  ether,  burning  bright — 
Suns  lighting  systems  with  their  joyous  beams  ? 
But  Thou  to  these  art  as  the  moon  to  night. 

Yes  !  as  a  drop  of  water  in  the  sea, 

All  this  magnificence  in  Thee  is  lost ; — 

What  are  ten  thousand  worlds  compared  to  Thee  ? 

And  what  am  /,  then  ?     Heaven's  unnumber'd  host, 

Though  multiplied  by  myriads,  and  array'd 

In  all  the  glory  of  sublimest  thought, 

Is  but  an  atom  in  the  balance  weighed, 

Against  Thy  greatness  is  a  cipher  brought 

Against  infinity  !     What  am  I  then  ? — Naught ! 

Naught !     But  the  effluence  of  Thy  light  divine, 
Pervading  worlds,  hath  reached  my  bosom  too  ; 


156  A  KUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

Yes  !  in  my  spirit  doth  Thy  spirit  shine, 
As  shines  the  sunbeam  in  a  drop  of  dew. 
Naught !  but  I  live  and  on  Hope's  pinions  fly 
Eager  towards  Thy  presence  ;  for  in  Thee 
I  live,  and  breathe,  and  dwell;  aspiring  high, 
Even  to  the  throne  of  Thy  divinity. 
I  am,  O  God !  and  surely  Thou  must  be  ! 

Thou  art !  directing,  guiding  all. — Thou  art ! 

Direct  my  understanding  then  to  Thee  ; 

Control  my  spirit,  guide  my  wandering  heart: 

Though  but  an  atom  'midst  immensity, 

Still  I  am  something,  fashioned  by  Thy  hand ! 

I  hold  a  middle  rank  'twixt  heaven  and  earth, 

On  the  last  verge  of  mortal  being  stand, 

Close  to  the  realms  where  angels  have  their  birth, 

Just  on  the  boundaries  of  the  spirit-land  ! 

The  chain  of  being  is  complete  in  me ; 
In  me  is  matter's  last  gradation  lost, 
And  the  next  step  is  spirit — deity! 
I  can  command  the  lightning,  and  am  dust ! 
A  monarch,  and  a  slave!  a  worm,  a  god ! 
Whence  came  I  here,  and  how  ?  so  marvellously 
Constructed  and  conceiv'd  !  unknown  ?  this  clod 
Lives  surely  through  some  higher  energy? 
For  from  itself  alone  it  could  not  be  ! 

These  verses  seemed  to  make  a  deep  impression 
upon  the  two  Russians,  and  they  spoke  in  their 
own  tongue  some  words  of  appreciation  of  the 
English  measure  of  verse. 

The  nai've  simplicity  of  our  host  was  well  illus- 
trated by  the  following  conversation  :  "  My 
friend,"  said  Prince  Ourouzeff,  "  ze  standing  army 


THE  DA  Y  A  T  PKINCE  OUROUZEFl-'S.         I  57 

of  ze  United  State  is  only  twenty-five  thousand 
troop  !  Is  zere  not  ze  greatest  danger  that  with 
only  twenty-five  thousand  troop  ze  United  State 
will  be  invaded  by  the  Empire  of  Brazil  ?  "  When 
all  fear  of  this  impending  danger  was  removed 
the  Prince  resumed  :  "  But  with  only  twenty- 
five  thousand  troop  in  ze  United  State  is  there 
not  great  danger  that  ze  President  Harrison  will 
seize  ze  rein  of  government  and  become  Dictator 
like  Boulanger  ?  " 

Again  the  fears  of  our  pious  friend  were  put  to 
rest,  and  he  took  Lord  Byron  and  Mr.  Thackeray 
into  another  portion  of  the  house,  and  Count 
Tolstoi  and  the  writer  were  left  together  to  take 
a  walk  about  the  plantation. 

In  thinking  in  advance  of  this  interview  with 
Tolstoi,  the  following  apparently  original  and 
spontaneous  questions  had  been  committed  to 
memory  : 

April  nth — Interview  with  Tolstoi. 

1.  What  hope  is  there  for  social  reform  among 
the  Russian  nobles  ? 

2.  How  many  are  there  like-minded  with  Count 
Tolstoi  ? 

3.  What    hope    is    there    for     progress     in    the 
Greek  Church  ? 

4.  Do  the  monks  exert  a  good  influence  ? 

5.  Would  not  an  order 'of  preachers  among  the 
Greek  Church  do  a  great  deal  of  good  ? 

6.  What  is  the  next  step  of  reform  in  Russia? 


158  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

7.  Is  Nihilism  on  the  wane  ? 

8.  Is  the  existing   government    likely   to    take 
any  steps  towards  constitutional  ruling  ? 

9.  Are    the    teachings    of   Henry    George    pro- 
hibited in  Russia  ? 

But  not  one  of  these  questions  was  asked,  for  the 
Count  led  the  way  by  asking  all  sorts  of  questions 
about  America,  and  it  seemed  easier  and  wiser  to 
follow  his  train  of  thought  than  to  insert  abrupt 
and  independent  questions  which  might  not  be 
familiar  to  him. 

His  daughter  had  asked  us  to  take  to  him  a 
large  bundle  of  mail  in  the  shape  of  letters  and 
papers,  and  as  we  deposited  them  in  his  room,  my 
eye  fell  on  two  American  newspapers,  the  Boston 
Index  and  a  Shaker  paper  from  Oregon,  on  the 
Pacific  coast. 

On  the  journey  to  St.  Petersburg,  Stead's  very 
interesting  book  "  Truth  About  Russia,"  had  been 
very  carefully  read,  and  the  interview  at  Yasnaia 
Poliana  had  been  most  particularly  studied. 
The  very  questions  which  were  upon  our 
minds  had  been  asked  by  his  English  visitor 
and  had  been  answered  by  the  Russian  novelist, 
and  since  these  replies  of  Count  Tolstoi  are  so 
interestingly  told,  the  story  shall  be  given  in  Mr. 
Stead's  own  words  : 

"Of  our  religious  sects  he  was  naturally  most 
attracted  by  the  Quakers.  He  had  the  autobi- 
ography of  George  Fox  on  his  book-shelf,  but  he 


THE  DA  Y  A  T  PRINCE  OUROUZEEl-'S.        \  59 

had  not  yet  read  it.  He  heartily  approved  of  the 
simplicity  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  of  the 
modesty  of  their  attire,  and  their  use  of  "  thee  " 
and  "thou."  He  was,  of  course,  entirely  in  ac- 
cord with  their  principle  of  non-resistance.  Only 
in  one  thing  the  Friends  came  short  of  the  Tol- 
stoian  ideal  :  they  recognized  the  right  of 
property. 

"  Count  Tolstoi  was  reluctant  to  speak  of  con- 
troversial questions.  He  said,  '  Christ  in  His 
last  prayer  prayed  that  all  His  followers  might  be 
one  ;  hence,  1  always  endeavor  to  discover  on 
what  points  1  can  agree  with  any  who  follow 
Christ.'  It  was  this  craving  after  the  true  Cath- 
olicity— the  essential  unity  of  the  Christian 
Brotherhood — that  led  him  to  welcome  so  heartily 
a  little  preface  I  had  written  some  years  ago  to 
'  Centres  of  Spiritual  Activity,'  in  which  1  said 
that. '  the  Ideal  Christian  Church  at  the  present 
time  ought  to  include  many  professing  atheists 
among  its  members,  for  men's  definitions  of  them- 
selves are  not  free  from  blunder  and  self-decep- 
tion, and  many  professing  atheists  are  unconscious 
Christians.' 

"Always  endeavor  to  find  out  points  of  agree- 
ment rather  than  those  of  antagonism  ;  find  out 
where  you  sympathi/e  rather  than  where  you  are 
in  antipathy,  such  is  the  spirit  of  Christ."  Hence, 
Count  Tolstoi  is  reluctant  to  express  opinions 
upon  controverted  points,  upon  the  authority  of 


l6o  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

the  Scripture,  upon  miracles,  and  upon  the  famil- 
iar moot  questions  which  are  the  battle-ground  of 
fierce  polemical  debates.  Speaking  of  human 
conceptions  of  God,  he  said  :  "  What  does  it 
matter  how  we  approach  Him  ?  I  approach 
Him  by  the  metaphysical  road.  Yours  is  the 
road  of  the  peasant  ;  it  suits  well  the  simplicity  of 
the  child.  It  is  impossible  to  me.  But  why  dis- 
pute ?  All  these  roads  are  like  the  spokes  of  a 
wheel.  They  start  from  different  points  in  the 
circumference,  but  they  all  meet  in  the  centre.' 

But  there  are  two  points  which  Count  Tolstoi 
would  not  regard  as  immaterial.  The  one  is  the 
conception  of  sin  and  its  punishment,  the  other 
the  Divinity  of  Christ.  Sin,  according  to  him, 
consists  in  conscious  failure  to  abide  in  the  will 
of  God.  All  violence  is  sin.  All  participation  in 
the  fruit  of  violence  is  sin,  for  the  receiver  is  as 
bad  as  the  thief.  If  the  Count  takes  money  for 
any  of  his  books,  and  that  money  has  been  stolen, 
he  becomes  a  sinner  equally  with  the  thief.  As 
the  distribution  of  the  goods  of  this  life  is  based 
upon  violence,  we  live  in  sin,  encompassed  by  it 
constantly.  We  must  try  to  live  out  of  it  by  obey- 
ing Christ's  laws.  But  sin  is  negative  purely,  and 
in  reality  is  non-existent.  Only  the  good  is.  The 
orthodox  notion  of  Adam's  fall  and  human  de- 
pravity Count  Tolstoi  utterly  repudiates.  Still, 
he  admits  that  in  the  soul,  which  is  of  God,  there 
are  imperfect  elements,  diabolic  elements,  which 


THE  DAY  AT  PRINCE  OUROUZEWS.         1 6 1 

lead  it  to  choose  evil  rather  than  the  truth.  In 
that  choice  lies  the  only  judgment.  The  truth 
would  have  made  man  free.  He  chooses  falsehood, 
and  he  is  judged,  for  he  remains  in  bondage,  and 
does  not  enter  into  the  freedom  which  he  might 
otherwise  have  possessed.  As  for  the  idea  of 
other  punishment  for  sin,  that,  he  declared,  was 
contrary  to  reason.  "  Punishment  and  God  are 
antagonistic  terms.  God  is  love.  The  whole 
idea  of  future  punishment  is  radically  false,  and 
contrary  to  the  idea  of  God."  I  asked  him  how 
he  explained  the  parable  of  Lazarus.  "  Oh,"  said 
he,  promptly,  "that  is  all  wrong.  It  was  spoken 
in  order  to  rebuke  the  social  system  which  places 
a  yawning  chasm  between  the  rich  and  the  poor, 
and  to  satirize  the  idea  very  prevalent  among  the 
rich,  that  the  poor  are  their  natural  servants, 
both  in  this  world  and  the  next.  The  moment 
Dives  sees  Lazarus  he  expects  that  he  will  do  his 
bidding.  The  framework  of  the  satire  signifies 
nothing.  Christ  constantly  took  the  old  Jewish 
ideas  and  worked  them  into  His  parables.  The 
idea  of  judgment  was  archaic,  it  was  not  Christ's. 
As  for  the  vision  in  the  Apoclaypse,  that  was  of 
no  authority."  "  But,"  said  I,  "what  did  Christ 
mean  when  He  said, '  Depart,  ye  cursed  '  ?  " 

It  was  a  very  hot  day  ;  we  had  had  a  long  walk, 
and  Count  Tolstoi  changed  the  subject  abruptly 
by  saying  he  was  too  tired  to  talk  any  longer. 

The  other  point  upon  which  Count  Tolstoi  in- 


l62  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

sists  is  the  human  character  of  Christ.  Christ's 
Divinity  he  recognizes  in  a  sense.  Christ  spoke 
the  will  of  God,  and  he  was  God,  for  all  of  us 
have  what  the  peasants  call  a  spark  of  God  in  the 
breast.  The  great  object  of  all  religion  is  to  de- 
velop that  spark,  to  make  man  more  divine.  But 
Christ  was  only  a  man  like  other  men.  The  story 
of  His  birth  and  of  His  resurrection  seems  to 
Count  Tolstoi  purely  mythical.  He  died,  and  He 
did  not  rise  again.  He  lived,  He  sinned,  He 
suffered,  and  He  was  crucified,  rejoicing  in  His 
ability  to  forgive  in  death  those  who  injured  Him. 
Of  the  Atonement,  he  says  it  has  had  its  day, 
like  torture,  and  disappears  before  the  truer  con- 
ception of  the  nature  of  God. 

It  is  commonly  believed  that  Count  Tolstoi 
denies  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  This  is  a 
mistake.  It  is  to  him  the  best  beloved  of  all  his 
speculative  doctrines.  We  had  many  long  talks 
about  the  soul  and  the  future  life. 

"  Until  two  years  ago,"  said  he,  "  I  thought  but 
little  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  Now  I  think 
of  it  constantly,  and  I  ever  think  of  it  more  and 
more." 

He  believes  in  the  free  existence  as  well  as  the 
immortality  of  the  soul.  Each  soul  had  always 
existed  and  would  always  exist.  Nor  would  he 
admit  that  the  soul  would  not  preserve  its  indi- 
viduality. 

"  What  is  this  ego  ?     What  is  the  soul  ?     The 


THE  DAY  AT  PRINCE  OUKOUZ.EF1-' S.         163 

consciousness  of  being?  It  is  not  identity  of 
matter.  It  is  not  identity  of  thought.  It  is  like  a 
string  on  which  a  continuous  series  of  conscious- 
nesses are  strung.  It  is  independent  of  the 
body.  It  will  always  be  I.  Life  is  a  cone,  cut  at 
the  apex  by  birth,  and  at  the  base  by  death. 
Existence  is  the  continual  broadening  of  the  soul 
in  love,  which  is  the  only  true  life,  which  is  (iod." 

"But,"  I  objected,  "  there  are  souls  which  in 
life  do  not  broaden,  but  shrink.  What  of  them  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  say,"  he  replied,  "  for  I  know  not 
what  mysterious  changes  may  take  place  at  the 
moment  of  death,  transforming  a  loveless  nature. 
Or  it  is  possible  it  may  begin  again  a  new  exist- 
ence on  new  conditions,  in  which  it  may  have  a 
new  chance  to  fulfil  the  law  of  its  being — which  is 
love — which  is  God.  It  is  with  difficulty,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  that  I  can  tear  my  thoughts  away  from 
the  next  world.  I  regret  every  moment  in  which 
I  do  not  feel  that  I  am  dying.  If  men  could  fully 
realize  the  truth  and  nature  of  the  next  world, 
there  would  be  no  keeping  them  in  this.  I  long 
to  depart.  But  this  is  wrong — I  should  be  patient, 
and  wait.  Yet  the  thought  of  death  is  growing  so 
increasingly  pleasant  that  I  need  to  struggle 
against  the  fascination  of  its  approach." 

It  is  interesting  to  be  able  to  read  Count  Tol- 
stoi's latest  and  most  matured  convictions  on 
this  subject,  for  hitherto  most  people  have  be- 
lieved that  he  denied  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 


164  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

M.  Anatole  Leroy-Beaulieu,  in  his  interesting  study 
of  Count  Tolstoi  and  religion  in  Russia,*  says  : 
"  Tolstoi  denies  categorically  the  future  life. 
In  becoming  Christian,  he  remains  Nihilist.  He 
admits  for  man  no  other  immortality  than  that  of 
humanity.  According  to  him,  true  Christianity 
knows  no  other.  Jesus,  he  says,  always  taught 
the  renunciation  of  personal  life  ;  and  the  doctrine 
of  individual  immortality,  which  affirms  the  per- 
manence of  personality,  is  in  opposition  to  that 
teaching.  The  survival  of  the  soul  after  death  is 
like  the  resurrection  of  the  body — only  a  supersti- 
tion opposed  to  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel."  This 
may  have  been  Count  Tolstoi's  opinion  atone  time. 
It  is  not  his  opinion  now.  "  I  will  always  be  I,"  he 
declares  ;  and  the  doctrine  of  personal  immortal- 
ity has  assumed  an  importance  in  his  conception 
of  life  which  is  utterly  at  variance  with  the  doc- 
trines imputed  to  him  on  the  strength  of  passages 
in  his  earlier  writings.  This  change  of  front  in 
this  important  Christian  doctrine  more  than 
ever  confirmed  me  in  the  opinion  that  Count 
Tolstoi's  religious  ideas  are  still  in  the  making. 
This  is  to  a  certain  extent  admitted,  even  by 
himself,  nor  is  it  probable  that  a  thinker,  who  in 
less  than  ten  years  has  traversed  the  immense  ex- 
panse which  separates  absolute  atheism,  from  a 
Christianity  of  the  very  literal  description  out- 

*  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  Sept.  15,  1888.  p.  434. 


THE  DAY  AT  l^RINCE  OUXOUZEWS.         165 

lined  in  "  My  Religion,''  can  have  already  arrived 
at  finality. 

Such  is  Mr.  Stead's  description  of  a  portion  of 
his  interview  with  Tolstoi.  It  seems  very  strange, 
after  reading  of  this  remarkable  man  and  having 
been  a  student  of  his  writings,  to  find  one's-self 
in  his  presence  and  to  realize  the  different  layers- 
of  experience  which  were  represented  by  this 
remarkable  life.  As  one  looked  into  his  face  one 
could  see,  according  to  the  story  as  he  himself 
has  given  it  in  his  Confession,  the  far-off  student, 
the  dashing  soldier  of  the  Crimea,  the  society 
man  of  St.  Petersburg,  the  brilliant  novelist  of 
later  days,  and  last  of  all  the  arousing  and  awak- 
ened reformer  of  Russia,  bearing  his  testimony  to 
the  truth  and  righteousness  of  God,  in  the  radical 
and  heroic  manner  of  the  old  Jewish  prophets. 

The  words  of  the  Master  came  into  the  writer's 
mind  as  together  we  walked  over  that  far-off 
plantation  : 

"  And  as  they  departed,  Jesus  began  to  say 
unto  the  multitudes  concerning  John:  What  went 
ye  out  into  the  wilderness  to  see  ?  A  reed  shaken 
with  the  wind  ? 

"But  what  went  ye  out  for  to  see?  A  man 
clothed  in  soft  raiment?  Behold,  they  that  wear 
soft  clothing  are  in  king's  houses. 

"  But  what  went  ye  out  for  to  see  ?  A  prophet  ? 
yea,  I  say  unto  you  and  more  than  a  prophet.  . 

"  And  from  the  days  of  John  the    Baptist  until 


1 66  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

now  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  suffereth  violence 
and  the  violent  take  it  by  force.  .  .  . 

"  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear." 

The  man  seemed  to  be  one  part  Quaker,  like 
George  Fox,  one  part  like  a  bit  of  Emerson  and 
another  part  a  bit  of  the  fanaticism  of  John  Brown. 
Again  and  again  during  this  walk  and  conversa- 
tion, one  could  not  but  be  struck  with  the  force 
and  power  of  the  directly  Christian  literalism  of 
the  man,  going  back  as  he  did  through  creeds 
and  councils  and  the  words  of  doctors  and  of  men 
to  the  direct  commands  of  the  Master. 

"  Why  do  you  not  organize,  Count  Tolstoi,  and 
gather  your  disciples  around  you?"  was  one  of 
the  questions  asked  on  this  occasion.  "  Ah," 
replied  the  Count,  "  life  is  different  from  organi- 
zation. Christ  did  not  organize,  he  lived  ;  let  me 
live,  but  let  those  that  come  after  me  organize. 
It  is  the  life  which  tells."  One  thought  of  the  dis- 
ciples in  the  upper  room  at  Jerusalem,  who 
organized  after  the  disappearance  of  the  Master. 
One  thought  of  Mohamed's  followers  organizing 
after  their  great  leader  had  died.  One  thought  of 
the  Lutherans  in  Germany  organizing  their  church 
after  the  death  of  their  great  leader  ;  and  it  was 
borne  home  upon  the  mind  that  in  this  matter 
this  man  was  both  profound  and  wise. 

"  But,"  again  was  asked,  "  if  you  antagonize  the 
force  of  the  government  of  Russia,  in  the  way 
that  your  friends  fear,  they  may  send  you  to 


THE  DAY  AT  PRINCE  OUROUZEFF'S.         1  67 

Siberia."  "  Yes,"  he  answered  as  he  played  with 
a  small,  rough  walking  stick  in  his  hand,  "  I  may 
go  to  Siberia.  I  will  probably  be  sent  there  at 
last  and  will  die  there,  but  it  will  be  well ;  I  will 
be  happy  to  go."  I  looked  at  the  man  who 
uttered  this  sentiment.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
moujik  smock-frock  with  a  waist-band  as  a  girdle. 
He  had  on  a  woolen  shirt  whose  collar  was  broad 
and  ample.  The  grey  hair  of  his  head  was  long 
and  silvery,  and  his  iron-grey  beard  and  mous- 
tache was  silk-like  and  smooth,  covering  a  ten- 
der, delicate  and  sensitive  mouth.  "  Is  Christ, 
indeed,  your  Master,"  I  asked,  "and  do  you  think 
of  Him  as  divine?"  "Ah,"  he  answered,  "Christ 
brings  me  to  the  light.  He  may  be  (iod,  he 
may  be  man,  he  may  be  both,  but  I  see  God 
only  through  him."  "  Have  you  published 
your  principles  to  the  world  in  the  form  of 
a  creed?"  was  asked  again.  "No,  no,"  he 
replied,  "it  is  mine  to  have  a  few  simple  princi- 
ples ;  so  that  the  life  tells.  All  the  rest  is  unim- 
portant." "  What  is  it  then,"  was  asked,  "  which 
will  make  a  life  tell  ?  "  "  Purity,  humility,  truth 
—these  are  the  things  which  always  make  a  man's 
life  tell.  I  have  not  much  to  bequeath  to  the 
world,"  he  added.  "  The  banner  of  my  life  is 
self-abnegation."  "  Have  you  no  faith  in  the 
churches  as  you  know  them  ? "  was  the  next 
question.  "  Not  as  I  see  them,"  he  answered. 
*'  The  earth  is  the  temple  of  the  Lord  and  the 


l68  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

churches  hide  themselves  in  an  obscure  corner  of 
it.  The  Christianity  of  this  nineteenth  century," 
he  added,  "  is  a  sham  one.  We  must  go  back  to 
the  literal  Christianity  if  we  would  indeed  make 
the  Gospel  of  Jesus  a  power."  "  What  is  it, 
then,"  was  asked,  "  which  corrupts  men  ? " 
"  War,  society,  government,"  was  the  prompt 
reply, — "  it  is  these  which  corrupt  men.  To 
bring  divine  power  again  to  man  we  must  go  back 
and  back  to  the  words  and  life  of  Christ." 

"Do  you  believe,  then,"  the  writer  asked,  "in 
the  progressive  revelation  of  God  to  man  ?•" 
"Certainly  I  do,"  was  the  reply.  "If  we  occupy 
our  minds  with  nonsense,  however,  God  will 
never  reveal  himself  to  us.  There  will  be  no 
room  for  Him  in  our  lives,  but  if  we  seek  to  do 
His  will  and  live  truly,  it  will  not  be  a  difficult 
thing  to  find  God  in  our  lives.  The  trouble  is 
that  too  many  of  us  are  occupied  with  our  non- 
sense and  God  can  do  nothing  with  a  nature 
which  occupies  itself  with  nonsense.'1  "  Is  there 
no  hope  then,"  was  the  next  question,  "  for  the 
Greek  Church?"  "None  whatever,"  he  replied, 
"  though  my  dear  friend  Prince  Ourouzeff  would 
be  shocked  at  my  saying  so.  There  is  no  hope  for 
the  Greek  Church.  It  is  a  corpse  ;  it  is  dead  and 
nothing  living  can  ever  come  from  its  tomb." 
"  Ah,  you  must  not  think  thus  of  all  Christianity," 
the  writer  said.  "  Come  and  visit  us  in  America 
and  we  will  show  you  a  church  life  that  is  hot 


THE  DAY  AT  PRINCE  OUROUZEFF'S.         169 

dead."  "  You  are  most  kind,"  was  the  reply, 
"  and  on  some  accounts  I  should  like  to  go,  but  I 
Cannot  now  go  to  America.  More  must  come 
from  my  life  and  I  must  stay  just  where  I  am. 
Man  must  not  dissipate  his  life  by  travelling.  If 
his  life  is  to  be  of  any  value  he  must  live  it  out 
and  I  must  live  my  life  out  here." 

At  this  point  of  the  interview  it  seemed  best  to 
drop  the  character  of  inquirer  and  answer  the 
many  questions  which  seemed  uppermost  in  this 
man's  mind — Was  our  nation  becoming  frivolous  ? 
Were  the  churches  indeed  alive?  Had  the  reign 
of  dogma  passed  ?  Were  the  teachers  and  doc- 
tors of  the  Church  going  directly  to  the  foundation 
of  all  life  in  the  words  of  Jesus  ?  Were  the 
Shakers  much  thought  of  in  America?  Were 
they  not  a  harmless,  innocent  sect?  Were  the 
Unitarians  getting  further  from  the  word  of 
Christ  or  were  they  growing  more  into  the  spirit 
of  the  Master  ?  Was  it  possible  for  a  man  to  be 
truly  liberal  and  yet  be  a  member  of  the  Anglican 
Communion?  Someone  had  sent  him  a  volume 
of  the  Rev.  Phillips  Brooks'  sermons.  Had  I 
ever  heard  the  man,  and  did  I  know  him?  Some- 
one else  had  sent  him  a  book  by  a  clergyman 
in  New  York.  It  was  called  "  The  Right  and 
Wrong  Uses  of  the  Bible."  Did  I  know  the 
author  ?  Were  the  teachings  of  Henry  George 
thought  well  of  in  America  ?  He  himself  thought 
that  George  was  an  original  and  profound  thinker, 


I/O  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

and  seemed  pleased  when  I  told  him  that  we  had 
-been  boys  together  in  my  father's  Sunday-school. 
What  kind  of  a  place  was  Massachusetts  ?  Would 
they  not  think  him  very  strange  if  he  were  to 
visit  America  ?  He  was  afraid  they  might  over- 
power him  with  kindness  ;  he  had  received  so 
many  kind  letters  from  America — ten  letters  from 
America  coming  in  the  mail  to  one  from  England. 
American  authors  he  was  most  fond  of,  markedly 
so  of  Thoreau,  Emerson,  Theodore  Parker,  Bry- 
ant and  Whittier.  There  was  great  danger 
before  the  American  people  in  the  rapid  growth 
of  luxury  and  wealth.  Did  we  think  the  Republic 
would  avoid  the  mistakes  of  the  republics  of  the 
past  ? 

.At  this  point  of  the  interview  Prince  Ourouzeff, 
with  hio  two  companions,  met  us  and  in  the  dark 
of  the  growing  evening  we  entered  the  house 
together  and  partook  of  a  hospitable  cup  of  tea 
from  the  brass  samovar  upon  the  dining-room 
table.  As  we  passed  a  piano  our  host  said  : 
"  Play  a  waltz  for  the  gentlemen,  Leo  ;  show 
them  how  we  amuse  ourselves  together,"  and  the 
music  of  the  crackling  fire  upon  the  hearth  kept 
time  to  the  bright  waltz  which  Count  Tolstoi 
played  for  us,  adding,  "  It  is  a  waltz  of  my  own 
composition.  I  composed  it  years  ago  when  I 
was  a  society  man  in  St.  Petersburg." 

By  this  time  the  sledges  had  come  for  us  at  the 
door.     Entering   them  we    were  kindly  wrapped 


THE  DAY  AT  PRINCE  OUROUZEFF'S.         1  7 1 

up  by  our  Russian  friends  and  in  the  darkness  of 
that  April  evening  we  waved  our  farewell  to  the 
Russian  prophet  and  his  pious  host,  and  the 
sleigh-bells  jingled  merrily  as  we  struck  the  road 
leading  into  Troitsa. 

At  Tavistock  in  Cornwall,  on  the  i4th  of  June, 
1889,  the  Honorable  William  E.  Gladstone  closed 
an  address  before  the  electors  with  the  following 
sentence,  which  sentence  lingers  in  my  mind  as 
an  emphatic  realization  of  the  influence  through- 
out the  world  to-day  of  Count  Leo  Tolstoi  : 

"  For  character  is  moral  power  and  moral 
power  it  is  which  by  the  sure  and  unshaken 
ordinances  of  God,  working  in  ways  perhaps  un- 
known to  us  but  known  and  fixed  by  Him  and  at 
such  times  and  in  such  manner  as  He  shall 
choose  ;  moral  power  it  is  which  eventually 
triumphs  over  every  adversary  and  shapes  the 
fortunes  of  nations  and  determines  the  great 
destinies  of  mankind." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

RUSSIAN    NATIONAL    LITERATURE. 

IN  the  treatment  of  Russian  national  literature 
we  are  dealing  with  a  force  that  has  been  a  liv- 
ing and  continuous  fact  for  nearly  a  century  and 
a  half  ;  and  which  has  yet  at  least  one  great  and 
commanding  representative  among  the  living 
writers  of  the  empire. 

Among  the  Russians,  literature  is  no  dilettante 
matter,  but  an  affair  as  earnest  as  life,  as  solemn 
as  death,  and  as  real  as  nature.  It  constitutes  no 
mere  side-play,  no  idle  resources  of  amusement  ; 
With  the  educated  classes,  it  is  a  fountain  of 
inspiration  that  acts  as  a  controlling  force  in  life 
and  is  pursued  with  an  intensity  amounting  to  a 
veritable  passion. 

The  spiritual  energy  of  the  Russian,  with  all 
the  higher  forces  of  his  life,  having  been  effect- 
ually excluded  from  the  spheres  of  church  and 
politics,  is  concentrated  and  intensified  in  the 
limited  area  of  literary  activity. 

This  is  why  the  fire  of  the  literary  instinct 
burns  with  such  peculiar  brightness  in  Russia 
and  shines  afar  with  such  undimmed  and  penetra- 
ting radiance  :  because  it  expresses  the  loftiest 


RUSSfAW  NA  TIONAL  LITER  A  TURK.         1 73 

aspirations,  the  deepest  purpose  and  the  concen- 
trated earnestness  of  a  vast  and  masterful  race. 
Energies  which  in  other  progressive  nations  are 
diffused  over  wide  and  varied  fields,  are  herft 
gathered  up  into  one  irresistible  volume  of  pas- 
sion, of  thought,  of  love,  of  hate,  of  thwarted 
but  determined  purpose.  In  Russia,  therefore, 
literature  is  the  solitary  medium  by  which  the 
living  current  of  divine  prophetic  fire  and  su- 
pernal inspiration  reaches  the  national  heart.  It 
is  the  lever  of  progress,  the  engine  by  which 
heaven's  forces  are  moving.  For  this  reason, 
also,  Russian  literature  has  a  national  aspect  and 
significance,  such  as  no  other  but  the  Hebrew 
possesses. 

The  creator  of  Russian  national  literature  was 
Michael  Lomonosof.  Out  of  the  darkling  chaos 
of  primitive  bilini,  chronicles  and  ballad  poetry, 
there  sprang  at  his  creative  word  a  light  for 
Russia  whose  growing  splendor  has  been  the 
masterlight  of  all  her  seeing  ever  since.  He  not 
only  inaugurated  the  national  literary  era,  but 
was  obliged  to  create  the  literary  language  of  his 
people  ;  and  his  services  in  shaping  the  form  of 
the  Russian  language  of  to-day  were  greater  than 
those  of  Chaucer  in  relation  to  the  English 
tongue. 

The  life-story  of  Mikhail  Vasilyevitch  Lom- 
onosof from  his  birth  in  1711  to  his  death  in  176.5 
reads  like  the  veriest  romance.  His  early  life  as 


174  A  KUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

the  son  of  a  fisherman  and  serf,  roving  about 
over  the  White  Sea  and  the  Arctic  Ocean  in  the 
hard  hunt  for  food  ;  his  enterprise  in  learning  to 
read  and  write  from  the  village  priest  ;  his  steal- 
ing away  from  home  to  Moscow  with  a  wagon 
train  of  frozen  fish,  in  order  to  learn  Latin  ;  the 
favorable  accident  which  placed  him  in  a  cloister 
school  ;  his  astonishing  progress  and  subsequent 
brilliant  career  at  Kieff  and  St.  Petersburg  ;  his 
travels  and  studies  in  Germany  ;  his  secret  mar- 
riage and  threatened  imprisonment  for  debt,  fol- 
lowed by  his  escape  at  the  same  time  from  the 
country  and  from  a  Prussian  recruiting  officer 
who  had  him  entered  in  the  cavalry  service 
after  getting  him  drunk  ;  his  marvellous  success 
at  St.  Petersburg  in  science,  in  rhetoric,  in  poetry 
and  in  mosaic  art — these  facts  bespeak  the  life 
of  low-born  genius  and  constitute  a  tale  of  adven- 
ture and  achievement  such  as  cannot  be  found  in 
the  life  of  any  scholar,  even  of  the  Renaissance. 
Lomonosof  left  no  monumental  work  of  literary 
art  behind  him.  In  the  province  of  literature  he 
was  simply  a  pioneer,  the  herald  of  a  brighter 
day.  He  was  a  voluminous  writer  in  the  field  of 
physical  science,  and  devoted  himself  to  many 
branches  of  it ;  proving  himself  everywhere  a 
man  of  the  most  varied  and  profound  learning. 
But  his  great  work  consisted  in  settling  his  native 
tongue  as  a  vehicle  for  literary  expression  and  in 
the  new  impulse  which  he  gave  to  education  a»d 
to  the  intellectual  life  of  Russia. 


A'VSS/AIV  NA  T1ONAL  LITERA  TURE.         \  ?$ 

Through  Derzhavin  and  Zhukofski  there  is  an 
unbroken  succession  of  literary  mediocrity  from 
Lonionosof  to  Pushkin.  It  had  been  one  of  the 
distinguishing  merits  of  Lomonosof's  well-nigh 
universal  genius  that  he  was  one  of  the  noble 
patriots,  almost  fanatical  in  their  aims,  whose 
earnest  toil  intensified  if  it  did  not  awake  the 
sentiment  of  nationality  in  Russia.  Yet  all  the 
poems  of  Lomonosof — constituting  his  distinct- 
ively literary  work — were  formed  upon  foreign 
models.  Indeed  it  is  characteristic  of  Russian 
genius  that  it  lacks  originality  in  the  matter  of 
literary  form.  And  with  the  immediate  suc- 
cessors of  Lomonosof  literary  effort  was  a  sickly 
imitation  of  the  classicism  after  which  his  poetry 
was  modelled,  with  the  addition  of  a  dilettante. 
romanticism  under  the  lead  of  Zhukofski. 

The  very  list  of  the  names  of  the  writers  and 
court-poets  under  Catherine  II.  is  tedious  and  dull, 
like  an  interminable  procession  of  black  hearses 
with  empty  coffins  in  them. 

Trediakofski,  Sumarokoff,  Kniazhnin,  Kheras- 
koff,  Bogdanovitch  Khemnitzer,  Viezin,  Radist- 
cheff,  Novikoff — a  dreary  array  of  bombastic  and 
artificial  poetasters  and  wordmongers,  with  only 
here  and  there  a  momentary  flash  of  spirited  writ- 
ing until,  passing  by  the  Alexandrine  period  of 
Kavanizin  and  Zhukofski,  we  reach  in  the  reign  of 
Nicholas,  the  great  and  honored  name  of  Pushkin. 

Alexander    Sergeyvitch    Pushkin   was   born    at 


\J6  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

Moscow  in  1799,  and  perished  in  a  duel  at  the 
early  age  of  thirty-eight.  With  the  opening  of, 
his  brilliant  career,  Russian  literature,  passing  out 
of  its  youthful  stage  attained  its  full  majority,  and 
entered  upon  its  rightful  heritage  of  independent 
freedom  and  power.  It  no  longer  bends  beneath 
the  yoke  of  the  professional  moralist  nor  serves, 
as  a  medium  for  the  inculcation  of  patriotism  as 
blind  obedience  to  the  constituted  order.  It  exists 
in  its  own  right,  standing  erect  and  powerful, 
voicing  and  employing  all  the  wild  and  native 
freedom  of  the  human  soul.  Pushkin  was  the  first 
among  the  memorable  writers  of  Russia  to  grow 
restive  under  the  political  situation  and  to  bid 
defiance  to  the  prevailing  despotism.  For  his  keen 
satirical  treatment  of  the  ruling  persons  and  con- 
ditions, including  the  idiotic  censorship  and  the. 
hated  rule  of  the  police,  and  for  his  bold  defence 
of  Shelley's  atheism  contained  in  an  intercepted 
letter,  he  was  twice  exiled  by  the  government — > 
first  to  Southern  Russia,  whence  he  obtained  leave 
to  visit  the  Caucasus,  there  to  fall  under  the 
influence  of  Byron's  poetry  ;  and  lastly  to  his 
private  estate  For  six  years,  where  he  escaped  that, 
inevitable  participationjn  the  revolt  of  1825  which 
would  have  been  visited  with  swift  and  certain 
execution. 

Pushkin  is  emphatically  the  singer  of  the  Slavic 
race.  Yet  even  so  patriotic  a  critic  as  Ivan 
Panim  has  denied  him  the  rank  of  a  true  poet. 


RUSSIAN  NATIONAL  LITERATURE.         177 

because  he  has  no  great  controlling  idea  giving 
force  and  harmonious  unity  to  his  work,  but  sings 
merely  under  the  eoullient  impulse  of  a  skill  which 
compels  him  to  utterance.  As  a  versifier  he  has 
no  peer  ;  but  his  genius  is  wholly  receptive  and 
artistic,  never  poetic  or  creative.  He  gives  pleas- 
ure always  but  never  imparts  inspiration.  He  is 
a  worshipper  of  beauty  for  beauty's  own  sake  and 
a  devotee  of  art  for  the  sake  of  art.  For  this 
reason  the  highest,  the  imperishable  beauty 
escaped  him  and  the  noblest  art,  the  art  that  is 
supreme  because  it  is  unconscious — lost  in  the 
vision  of  the  ideal — was  beyond  his  grasp.  This 
aspect  of  his  work  was  characteristic  of  the  man, 
and  comports  with  the  character  of  his  mind  and 
life.  His  entire  life,  except  the  brief  period  of 
his  exile,  was  absorbed  in  the  gay  and  voluptuous 
high  life  of  the  capital.  Spoiled  in  his  youthful 
education  by  French  ideals  and  by  a  worldly 
environment  that  had  no  redeeming  feature,  he 
drowned  his  soul  in  the  whirlpool  of  social  vani- 
ties and  indulged  even  to  his  last  days  in  the 
silliest  refinements  of  foppery.  It  is  not  wonder- 
ful, therefore,  that  in  his  works  he  neither 
addresses  the  heart  nor  speaks  from  the  heart. 

Occasionally  in  his  lyrical  pieces,  where  Push- 
kin's art  is  always  at  its  best,  and  toward  the  very 
end  of  his  brief  life,  in  his  finest  prose  work, 
n  The  Captain's  Daughter,"  he  gives  evidence  of 
a  strength  and  depth  of  soul  that  was  capable-  of 


1/8  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

higher  achievements.  His  "  Hymn  to  Force"  is 
one  of  the  noblest  and  most  beautiful  of  his  lyrical 
efforts,  but  there  is  nothing  distinctively  Russian 
or  strikingly  original  in  it.  It  certainly  reaches 
the  highest  region  of  poetic  realization  and  sweeps 
the  farthest  horizon  of  scientific  fact  with  infinite 
freedom  and  power  ;  but  so  far  as  regards  its  form 
and  spirit  it  might  have  been  written  by  Tenny- 
son or  Goethe  or  by  our  own  Realf,  whose 
unhonored  genius  soared  as  high  as  any  that  have 
ever  sung. 

Very  different  is    the  ringing  note    of  the  sing- 
ing soul  in  his  noblest  poem,  "The  Prophet." 

''Tormented  by  the  thirst  for  the  Spirit 
I  was  dragging  myself  in  a  sombre  desert 
And  a  six-winged  seraph  appeared 
Unto  me  on  the  parting  of  the  roads. 
With  fingers  as  light  as  a  dream 

He  touched  mine  eyes ; 
And  mine  eyes  opened  wide, 
Like  unto  the  eyes  of  a  frightened  eagle. 

He  touched  mine  ears, 
And  they  filled  with  din  and  singing. 
And  I  heard  the  tremblings  of  the  heavens, 
And  the  flight  of  the  angels'  wings, 
And  the  creeping  of  the  polyps  in  the  sea, 
And  the  growth  of  the  vine  in  the  valley. 

And  he  took  hold  of  my  lips 
And  out  he  tore  my  sinful  tongue 
With  its  empty  and  false  speech. 
And  the  fang  of  the  wise  serpent 
Between  my  terrified  lips  he  placed 

With  bloody  hand. 


RUSSIAN  NA  T1ONAL  LITER  A  TURK.         I  79 

And  ope  he  cut  my  breast  with  a  sword, 

And  out  he  took  my  trembling  heart, 

And  a  coal  blazing  with  flame 

He  shoved  into  the  open  breast. 

Like  a  corpse  I  lay  in  the  desert; 

And  the  voice  of  the  Lord  called  unto  me : 

Arise,  O  prophet  and  guide,  and  listen — 

Be  thou  filled  with  my  will, 

And  going  over  land  and  sea, 

Burn  with  the  Word  in  the  hearts  of  men." 

Here  the  form  and  flavor  are  distinctly  Rus- 
sian. In  this  generation  such  a  poem  could  not 
have  been  written  out  of  Russia  nor  by  other  than 
a  Russian  hand.  Elsewhere  in  this  mammon- 
stricken  time,  there  is  no  such  "  thirst  for  the 
Spirit  "  in  the  souls  of  men  as  drives  them  into 
desert  solitude  to  be  visited  by  six-winged  angels 
of  God  ;  the  heavens  do  not  tremble  audibly  in 
the  ears  of  men  in  other  lands,  nor  does  the  vine 
grow  an  audible  message  in  any  but  Russian  vales  ; 
much  less  in  this  cant-cursed  Western  world  is  any 
sinful  tongue  torn  out  or  a  false  and  "  trembling 
heart  "  replaced  by  the  blazing  flaming  coal  of 
the  living  Word.  None  but  the  semi-oriental 
spirit  of  the  Slav  impregnated  still  by  the  breath 
of  truth  and  the  eternal  Spirit  could  possibly  give 
birth  to  such  an  astonishing  conception. 

Pushkin  perceived  at  the  last,  even  through  the 
mists  of  surrounding  worldiness  and  inward 
variety,  that  art  had  a  higher  function  than 
simply  to  entertain  :  that  its  aim  was  not  pleasure 


ISO  A  RUAr  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

but  helpfulness.  He  saw  clearly  that  its  mission 
was  the  delivery  of  a  message  from  the  Infinite 
which  must  come  out  of  the  depths  of  the  human 
soul ;  but  what  that  message  was  he  never  knew. 
He  never  would  have  known  or  guessed  it.  He 
had  given  himself  over  deliberately,  knowingly, 
repeatedly  into  the  toils  of  a  constricting  and 
consuming  worldliness  which  crushed  him  and 
devoured  him  according  to  his  deserts.* 

In  Michael  Lermontof,  the  outward  incidents 
of  Pushkin's  life  were  almost  lived  over  again, 
whilst  his  spirit  takes  a  step  forward  in  that,  with 
the  intense  Byronism  of  his  works,  he  combines 
an  uncompromising  scorn  for  the  brutal  barbarity 
of  the  autocracy.  Born  at  Moscow  in  1814,  he 
received  the  same  type  of  youthful  training  which 
had  forever  shut  out  the  soul  of  his  great  prede- 
cessor from  the  noblest  destiny.  He  was  twice 
banished  to  the  Caucasus ;  first  at  the  age  of 
twenty-three,  for  an  elegy  on  Pushkin's  death, 
in  which  he  had  the  temerity  to  invoke  the  Czar's 
vengeance  on  the  murderer  who  was  a  court 
favorite  ;  and  again  for  a  duel  with  a  son  of  the 
French  Minister  Barante.  Finally,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-seven,  he  was  slain  in  a  duel  with  a  com- 

*  His  principal  works  are  the  following  :  "  Rusland  and 
Sindmila,"  "  Fountain  of  Bakhchisarai,"  "  Prisoner  of  the 
Caucasus,"  "  Lay  of  the  Wiscoley,"  "  Gypsies,"  "  Ode  to  the 
Sea,""  Boris  Godunof,"  "  The  Captain's  Daughter,""  Eugene 
Ouyegin." 


K  USSIAN  NA  TIOA'A  L  L ITEKA  TURK.          1 8  [ 

rade  who  had  imagined  himself  insulted  repeat- 
edly, in  Lermontof's  romance,  "  The  Hero  of  Our 
Time." 

The  inveterate  vice  of  Lermontof,  as  of  Pushkin, 
fs  the  persistence  with  which  he  fixes  his  gaze 
upon  himself  and  everlastingly  describes  himself 
and  his  own  feelings  in  his  works.  From  him  we 
l«arn  nothing  of  Russia.  A  spirit  so  subjective 
was  incapable  of  holding  the  mirror  up  to  nature 
And  revealing  the  temper  of  his  countrymen  and 
the  condition  of  the  land  and  time  in  which  he 
lived.  His  redeeming  excellence  is  that  he  was 
too  brave  and  true  ever  to  compromise  with  the 
evil  which  he  hated  and  denounced.  To  the  last 
he  refused  to  fall  down  and  worship  the  golden 
image.  In  his  own  proud  words  :  "  They  tor- 
tured him  because  he  dared  to  think  ;  stoned  him 
because  he  dared  to  speak  ;  they  could  make  no 
answer  and  that  was  the  sole  cause  of  their 
frenzy.  "  "  But  he  did  not  envy  them  nor  their 
servility  by  which  they  were  won.  They  robbed 
him  of  everything  except  his  pride  and  courage. 
He  was  on  fire  for  the  beautiful,  fought  for  the 
true.  The  others  found  that  to  be  bad  and  dan- 
gerous. When  liberty  is  taken  from  him  long, 
solitary  contemplation  changed  his  hate  to  bound- 
less contempt." 

In  him  we  see  the  awful  tremblings  of  those 
new  forces  that  were  beginning  to  stir  in  the 
heart  of  Russia  ;  we  hear  the  stern  protest 


1 82  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

against  that  autocratic  brutality  which  has  turned 
Russian  history  into  one  long  tragedy  of  more 
than  fifty  years — a  protest  that  swelled  to  more 
majestic  and  terrible  tones  in  the  literary  epoch 
that  immediately  followed,  and  which  has  deter- 
mined the  character  and  direction  of  literary 
development  in  Russia  ever  since. 

With  the  appearance  of  Nikolai  Vasilyevitch 
Gogol  (1809-1852),  Russian  literature  passed 
finally  beyond  the  subjective  romanticism  that 
had  ruled  from  Zhukofski  to  Lermontof,  and  not 
only  entered  on  a  new  epoch,  but  opened  a  new 
era  in  the  world  of  letters.  Gogol  is  a  realist  of 
the  most  original  and  impressive  type.  A  native 
of  the  steppes  of  southern  Russia  he  grew  up 
amid  the  wild  and  radiant  beauty  of  a  luxuriant 
and  expansive  nature  ;  whilst  his  inheritance  of 
Cossack  freedom  and  daring  familiarized  him 
with  the  untamed  life  and  rude  simplicity  of  that 
most  original  people.  His  heart  was  tutored  to 
sincerity  and  his  imagination  inspired  by  the  tales 
of  adventurous  heroism  recounted  at  the  home 
fireside. 

At  the  age  of  twelve  he  entered  school  at 
Nyezhin,  where  he  was  voted  a  dunce  under  the 
humorous  sobriquet  of  Universus  Mundus — the 
first  words  of  the  opening  paragraph  in  a  Latin 
Reader,  which  paragraph  measured  the  extent  of 
his  progress  into  the  mysteries  of  the  Latin 
tongue.  With  like  stupidity  in  mathematics  he 


RUSSIAN  NA  TIONAL  LITER  A  TURE.          1  83 

abhorred  it  equally  with  the  classics;  nevertheless 
he  read  voraciously,  established  a  college  review 
with  himself  as  chief  contributor  and  took  the 
town  by  storm  with  his  acting  in  the  amateur 
theatricals  which  he  inaugurated.  At  twenty 
years  he  was  off  to  St.  Petersburg,  having  out- 
grown the  provincial  horizon,  and  filled  with  hun- 
ger for  the  companionship  and  fame  of  Zhukofski 
and  Pushkin. 

Here,  after  all  manner  of  tribulation,  penury, 
starvation,  disappointment  ;  after  failure  succes- 
sively as  a  government  clerk,  university  lecturer, 
and  on  the  stage  ;  and  after  having  gone  off  to 
Germany,  to  Lubeck,  in  the  vain  pursuit  of  for- 
tune, he  finally  resolved  to  devote  himself  to  the 
literary  life,  come  whatever  fortune  would.  Here- 
upon, he  straightway  enters  upon  a  career  of 
imperishable  renown  as  a  writer.  In  1830  he 
began  a  series  of  tales  entitled  "  Evenings  on  a 
Farm,"  portraying  the  wild  life  of  Cossackdom  in 
colors  of  such  beauty  and  with  scenes  of  such 
thrilling  interest  as  at  once  enchained  the  heart 
of  the  nation.  Oneof  these,  "  Taras  Bulba,"  takes 
rank  in  Russia  as  a  national  epic  and  is  praised 
by  Russian  critics  of  high  authority  in  terms  of 
most  extravagant  laudation,  as  worthy  of  com- 
parison only  with  the  Iliad.  It  is  unquestion- 
ably a  tale  of  unique  power,  in  which  the  whole 
Cossack  nature  speaks,  unfolding  all  the  heroic 
qualities  and  strange  life  in  the  ancient  Cossack 
republic. 


1 84  A  K  UN  THRO  i  'GH  K USSIA . 

Another  tale  much  admired  by  Western  critics 
is  "  The  Cloak,'1  detailing  the  petty  miseries  of  an 
ill-paid  government  clerk,  who  all  his  life  has 
wanted  a  Spanish  cloak  and  has  the  long-coveted 
garment  stolen  from  him  shortly  after  becoming 
its  possessor. 

It  is  not  as  a  teller  of  stories,  however  strong 
or  fascinating,  that  Gogol  reaches  his  high  stan- 
dard in  the  field  of  literature.  This  he  attains  in 
the  sphere  of  practical  moral  purpose,  as  a  con- 
scious and  caustic  protester  against  the  shameless 
abuses  of  the  autocracy.  His  first  attempt  in 
this  direction  was  by  the  path  of  the  drama  in  a 
comedy  entitled  "  The  Reviser,"  or  Government 
Inspector.  His  professed  aim  was  to  drag  into 
light  "  all  that  was  bad  in  Russia  "  and  wither  it 
in  the  fire  of  indignant  scorn. 

He  laid  bare  the  abuses  and  corruption  of  the 
civil  service  with  a  biting  satire  and  placed  the 
alternate  arrogance  and  servility  of  the  officials  in 
alight  so  ridiculous  that  it  aroused  universal  con- 
tempt for  the  official  class  and  at  the  same  time 
evoked  their  instant  and  bitter  hostility.  The 
guilty  officials  of  a  small  city,  whose  administra- 
tion will  not  bear  investigation,  dreading  the 
advent  of  a  secret  examiner  who,  they  learn,  has 
been  sent  from  St.  Petersburg  on  an  errand  of  in- 
vestigation, call  in  a  body  at  the  hotel  where  he 
is  supposed  to  lodge,  and  there  mistake  a  penniless 
spendthrift  traveller  for  the  dreaded  inquisitor. 


K  USSIA  N  NA  TIONA  L  LITER  A  TURE.         1 8  5 

He,  after  momentary  surprise,  accepts  the  situa- 
tion when  he  sees  them  bent  on  warding  off  his 
condemnation  by  the  methods  common  to  corrupt 
officials.  He  accepts  all  their  bribes ;  borrows 
money  on  all  hands  ;  makes  love  to  stfndry  maids 
and  matrons,  including  the  mayor's  wife  and 
daughter ;  and  finally  disappears  with  all  his  booty, 
to  be  succeeded  by  the  real  revisor  to  the  utter 
dismay  of  the  officials  who,  secure,  as  they  sup- 
posed, in  the  Reviser's  favor,  had  launched  forth 
upon  a  new  career  of  outrage.  Such  is  the  plot 
of  this  famous  play.  The  delicate  subject  was 
handled  with  such  artistic  skill  under  the  bewitch- 
ing veil  of  impersonal  humor  which  disguised  the 
author's  indignation,  that  the  censorship  scarcely 
hesitated  to  allow  its  presentation,  and  the 
Emperor  Nicholas,  at  its  first  performance  called 
the  author  to  him  and  said :  "  I  have  never 
laughed  before  as  I  have  this  evening."  To  which 
Gpgol  replied,  "  I  had  really  aimed  at  another 
effect." 

This  moral  end  sought  and  aimed  at  in  "  The 
Revisor,"  was  fully  attained  in  Gogol's  great 
novel,  "  Dead  Souls,"  which  was  directed  against 
the  abuses  of  serfdom.  An  audacious  adventurer 
goes  about  Russia  making  fictitious  purchases  of 
"  Dead  Souls,"  /.  e.  of  serfs  who  have  died  since 
the  last  census,  yet  who  were  still  counted  as  liv- 
ing, intending  to  people  with  these  nominal  beings 
a  worthless  tract  of  land  with  a  view  of  pledging 


1 86  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

all  to  the  government  by  means  of  ignorant  and 
corrupt  bank  officials. 

This  flimsy  plot,  which  is  scarce  intelligible  to 
a  Western  mind,  but  which  was  vividly  understood 
by  every  Russian  of  the  time,  is  simply  an  excuse 
for  painting  the  dark  aspects  of  Russian  civili- 
zation— or  rather  barbarism — and  for  introduc- 
ing numerous  types  of  Russian  society.  It  is  a 
sort  of  panorama  of  Russian  life.  It  revealed 
Russia  to  the  Russians  and  made  them  realize  how 
little  they  had  felt  the  awful  sores  which  were 
poisoning  the  life-blood  of  the  empire.  "  Great 
God,"  exclaimed  Pushkin,  on  reading  it,  "  I  had 
no  idea  Russia  was  such  a  dark  country  !  " 

In  these  two  great  works  "  The  Revisor  "  and 
"  Dead  Souls,"  Gogol  transcended  the  narrow 
limitations  and  barbaric  ideals  to  which  he  had 
been  born,  as  well  as  the  traditional  romanticism 
of  the  time  and  launched  forth  upon  a  hitherto 
unexplored  sea,  demonstrated  with  marvellous 
skill  and  amazing  genius  that  conscience  and 
moral  purpose  could  be  made  a  commanding  force 
in  literature.  It  was  he  that  emancipated  litera- 
ture from  the  thraldom  of  an  artificial  tradition 
and  led  it  forth  from  the  world  of  dreams  into  the 
atmosphere  of  real  life. 

His  life  ended  sorrowfully  enough.  Finding 
that  his  genius  had  exhausted  itself  in  the  work 
of  protest  against  the  crying  evils  of  his  native 
land,  and  was  incapable  of  constructive  or  idealiz- 


RUSSIAN  NA  TIONAL  LITER  A  TURE.          \  87 

ing  achievement,  he  burnt  the  second  part  of 
"  Dead  Souls,"  on  which  he  had  labored  long,  as 
unworthy  his  best  art,  and  giving  all  his  posses- 
sions to  the  poor,  he  devoted  himself  to  a  religious 
life. 

Wishing  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  he 
published  a  volume  of  private  correspondence  to 
obtain  the  needed  funds  for  the  journey  and  drew 
down  upon  himself  a  storm  of  denunciation  from 
his  former  liberal  associates  for  the  spirit  of 
Christian  submissiveness  and  humility  exemplified 
and  commended  in  these  letters.  He  was  merci- 
lessly abused  as  an  imbecile  and  a  renegade  ;  and, 
heart-broken  at  the  coldness  or  hostility  of  former 
friends,  took  refuge  in  the  most  extreme  religious 
mysticism.  Giving  himself  over  to  fast  and  vigil, 
that  wrecked  his  mind  and  wasted  his  body,  lie 
was  at  last  found  starved  to  death  before  a  shrine, 
in  front  of  which  he  had  been  prostrate  in  silent 
prayer.  So  passed  from  labor  and  from  suffering 
the  noblest,  most  original,  and  most  striking  figure 
in  the  field  of  Russian  literature,  and  one  who, 
for  purity  of  soul,  elevation  of  purpose  and  Christ- 
liness  of  spirit,  is  without  a  peer  in  the  universal 
republic  of  letters. 

The  closing  years  of  Gogol's  life  witnessed  the 
appearance  of  a  body  of  clever  and  accomplished 
writers  who  won  a  national  recognition — Shevt- 
chenko,  Byelinski,  Niekrasof,  Herzin,  Tchrunish- 
evski,  etc. — whose  names  are  scarcely  known 


1 88  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

out-side  of  Russia  and  who  contributed  hardly 
anything  distinctive  to  the  national  literature. 

With  the  rise  of  Ivan  Turgenief  we  reach  a 
period  and  a  man  in  Russian  literature  that  are 
both  imposing  and  familiar  to  the  entire  reading 
public  in  every  Western  land  ;  for  his  cosmopolitan 
genius  and  Russian  spirit  made  Russian  litera- 
ture popular  in  the  West  and  prepared  the  way 
for  his  younger  contemporary,  Tolstoi. 

Rarely  indeed  has  an  author  obtained  a  triumph 
against  such  terrible  odds  as  did  Turgenief.  He 
has  been  read  and  admired  in  every  land  where 
art  and  genius  win  the  homage  of  mankind  ;  but 
never,  outside  his  own  land,  has  he  been  read  in 
his  own  tongue.  Everywhere  his  work  has  be- 
come known  through  the  medium  of  translations  ; 
yet  even  when  thus  distorted  and  robbed  of  its 
finest  finish,  his  work  has  everywhere  elicited  the 
most  genuine  enthusiasm  and  commanded  the 
highest  respect. 

The  style  of  a  great  author  is  the  quality  and 
feature  of  his  work  which  always  makes  the  most 
effective  impression — the  vehicle  on  which  his  art 
is  carried  to  the  goal  of  the  reader's  appreciation  ; 
yet  Turgenief's  style  is  almost  wholly  unknown 
to  the  bulk  of  his  readers,  and  his  art  is 
made  real  to  them  through  the  style  of  the  trans- 
lator. That  in  spite  of  such  obstacles  his  art 
should  have  made  its  way  during  his  own.  lifetime 
into  the  unqualified  admiration  of  the  civilized 


KUSSIA1V  XA  T1ONAL  LITER  A  TURE.         1 89 

world  is  more  than  ample  proof  of  its  excellence. 
It  was  the  supremacy  of  his  literary  art  that  ena- 
bled him  to  conquer  universal  recognition.  There 
is  an  architectural  symmetry  and  completeness  of 
form  in  every  one  of  his  books  not  to  be  found  so 
perfectly  exemplified  in  any  other  modern  author. 
In  this  particular  each  of  his  six-  great  novels  is  a 
perfect  masterpiece.  Nothing  is  superfluous  ;  yet 
nothing  is  wanting.  No  three-volume  standard 
compels  prolixity  and  endless  verbiage  ;  no  com- 
mercial tyranny  of  the  bookseller  drives  the  au- 
thor to  disregard  nature  and  perspective  whilst 
pandering  to  the  popular  whim  of  the  hour.  In 
fact,  there  is  no  such  thing  known  in  Russia  as 
bookmaking.  The  author  is  before  all  things  an 
artist  with  the  most  exacting  standards  and  the 
most  conscientious  regard  for  the  demands  of  his 
art.  Hence,  in  Russia  there  are  few  scribblers 
but  many  writers,  who  have  produced  few  vol- 
umes but  have  executed  many  masterpieces. 

One  supreme  virtue  of  Turgenief's  art  which 
makes  his  work  thrill  and  glow  under  the  eye  of 
the  reader  like  a  thing  of  life  and  beauty,  is  his 
deep  sympathy  with  nature.  There  was  in  his 
soul  that  unconscious  poetic  discernment  of  the 
living  force  that  animates  the  world  which  made 
him  reverent  toward  nature,  in  spite  of  his  agnos- 
ticism, and  led  him  to  paint  the  universe  as  a  liv- 
ing thing.  The  air  trembles  under  his  eyes,  the 
sunshine  laughs,  the  thunder  growls  as  he  listens  ; 


IQO  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

even  the  darkness  is  clothed  with  intelligence 
and  feeling,  and  the  warmth  of  a  summer  eve  is 
charged  with  a  message  of  peace,  as  in  this  exquisite 
sentence  from  one  of  his  minor  stories  :  "  Night, 
silent  caressing  night,  lay  on  the  hills  and  dales. 
From  its  fragrant  depths  afar — whether  from 
heaven  or  from  earth  could  not  be  told — there 
poured  a  soft  and  quiet  warmth." 

Above  all  Turgenief  has  the  rare  dramatic 
power  of  living  in  the  characters  which  he  creates, 
and  so  of  making  them  live  and  breathe  before  us. 
He  himself  was  conscious  of  this  power  as  he 
said  to  Mikhailof,  Professor  of  Physiology  in 
St  Petersburg  :  "  I  see  a  man  who  strikes  me  from 
some  characteristic  or  other  perhaps  of  little  im- 
portance. I  forget  him.  And  then,  long  after, 
the  man  suddenly  starts  up  from  the  grave  of  for- 
getfulness.  About  the  characteristic  which  I 
observed  others  group  themselves,  and  it  is  of  no 
use  now  if  I  want  to  forget  him  :  I  cannot  do  it; 
he  has  taken  possession  of  me  ;  1  think  with  him, 
live  in  him  ;  I  can  only  restore  myself  to  ease  by 
finding  an  existence  for  him." 

The  weak  aspect  of  Turgenief's  work  was  not 
on  the  artistic,  but  on  the  moral  side.  He  was  a 
man  utterly  devoid  of  faith  :  hence,  there  is  noth- 
ing positive  or  inspiring  in  his  purposes.  The 
pall  of  an  immovable  pessimism  hangs  over  all 
his  work.  Melancholy,  dark,  stubborn,  impene- 
trable, possesses  him.  Whatever  purpose  rules  his 


K USSIA N  NA  T1ONA L  LI TERA  TURE.          1 9 1 

work — and  his  art  is  full  of  purpose — is  negative, 
critical.  He  is  a  fighter,  a  destroyer.  The  Rus- 
sian autocracy  that  shadowed  his  youth  and 
blighted  his  manhood,  making  him  a  hopeless 
exile,  was  the  foe  that  called  out  the  energy  of  his 
nature  in  life-long  hostility. 

Pushkin  stood  for  the  expression  of  literary  in- 
dependence ;  Gogol  for  that  of  satirical  protest 
and  earnest  criticism  ;  in  Turgenief  we  reach  the 
attitude  of  determined  assault  and  persistent 
enmity  to  the  existing  social  order — the  literature 
of  pure  negation  and  destruction,  if  not  of  de- 
spair. 

With  the  work  of  Dostoyevski  we  begin  to 
ascend  toward  a  new  order.  There  is  in  the 
strange,  complex,  incomprehensible  nature  of  this 
marvellous  man,  a  boundless  prophecy  of  positive 
constructive  genius  which  never  gets  its  fulfilment. 
He  never  gets  beyond  the  analytic  stage.  But  it 
is  a  distinct  and  immeasurable  gain  over  all  that 
preceded  him  in  Russian  writing  that  he  is  analyt- 
ical, not  critical  ;  dialetic,  not  cynical  ;  psycholog- 
ical, not  sociologic  or  economic  in  his  view  of 
man  and  human  relations.  Here,  at  last,  we  feel 
that  we  are  dealing  with  the  primordial  elements 
out  of  which  all  social  fabrics  are  constructed, 
namely  with  those  human  instincts  and  motives 
which  are  the  source  of  all  maladjustments  of 
social  relation  and  organization.  The  conditions 
and  activities  of  the  human  soul  are  the  engros- 


IQ2  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

sing  matters  of  his  interest.  Outward  nature 
makes  no  impression  on  him.  There  are  no  land? 
scapes  in  his  background  ;  no  descriptions  en- 
cumber his  pages.  But  with  a  perfectly  clairvoy- 
ant perception  of  mental  conditions  and  spiritual 
processes,  he  opens  up  dark  continents  of  undis- 
covered thought  and  motive,  traversed  by  streams 
of  action  and  consequence,  and  embracing  impen- 
etrable jungles  of  problem  and  mystery.  "Crime 
and  Punishment  "  is  an  analysis  of  motive  and  an 
unfolding  of  spiritual  sequence  unsurpassed,  if  not 
unequalled,  in  any  language  ;  and  makes  one  feel 
how  slight  and  trivial  in  comparison  is  such  a  psy- 
chologic portrait  as  "  Dr.  Jekyll  and  Mr.  Hyde." 
Apparently  the  simple  analysis  of  a  special  crime, 
it  is,  in  reality,  a  vast  picture  of  the  psychology 
of  contemporary  Russia,  with  its  social  conditions 
for  background.  With  little  or  no  art  employed 
in  its  structure  and  with  many  vices  of  style,  the 
story  is  yet  enthralling  by  virtue  of  its  intense 
realism  and  profound- tragic  verity. 

In  his  sympathy  with  the  human  soul  and  in 
his  immediate  and  clear  perceptions  of  its  laws 
Dostoyevski  is  the  true  forerunner  of  the  great 
personality  who  claims  the  main  story  of  this 
volume. 


THK  CZAR  AND  His  FAMILY. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THK  EXIT  FROM   RUSSIA  VIA   WARSAW. 

THE  night  train  from  Troitsa  hurried  the  travel- 
lers back  that  same  evening  to  Moscow,  refresh- 
ment having  been  secured  at  intervals  along  the 
way.  The  note-books  were  much  in  use  that 
night  in  making  entries  of  this  interesting  day's 
work,  and  the  sleep  of  the  just  crowned  the  night 
with  its  blessing  in  the  comfortable  Hotel  de 
Berlin,  in  Moscow. 

The  next  day  saw  these  same  three  pilgrims 
going  once  more  over  the  sights  of  the  Kremlin 
and  through  St.  Savior's  massive  structure,  to 
the  house  of  the  Tolstoi  family  to  report  the  suc- 
cess of  their  visit  to  Troitsa/  On  the  way  thither 
a-family  group  of  the  Tolstoi  children,  with  Miss 
Tatiana,  the  elder  sister,  and  the  English  gover- 
ness, were  discovered  walking  to  see  the  rise  in 
the  river  Moskva,  which  was  bounding  along  like 
a  New  England  river  in  a  spring  freshet.  After 
giving  the  children  an  account  of  our  visit  to  their 
father  and  Prince  Ourouzeff,  which  conversation 
was  instantly  translated  into  Russian  by  the  elder 
sister,  Miss  Tolstoi  added  :  "  Ah  !  yes,  you  see 
they  are  great  cronies,  Papa  and  Ourouzeff,  and 


194  A  RUX  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

they  don't  agree  one  bit ;  but  they  are  fast  friends." 
And  the  happy  group  of  children  went  running 
along  to  see  the  river,  waving  a  farewell  to  the 
Americans,  who  turned  once  more  to  see  that 
never-failing  object  of  interest,  the  Kremlin,  with 
its  many  souvenirs  of  the  past.  Along  the  river 
side  many  peasants  were  occupied  in  getting  that 
familiar  harbinger  of  spring,  the  always  welcomed 
"pussy-willows."  Groups  of  peasants  would  se.- 
cure  for  themselves  little  branches  of  these,  which 
were  tied  together  with  colored  ribbons,  and 
would  then  proceed  to  the  different  shrines  and 
icons  in  the  churches  within  the  Kremlin  walls, 
there  to  dedicate  them  to  their  favorite  saint  and 
patron. 

As  we  re-entered  the  Troitski  or  Trinity  (late  of 
the  Kremlin — the  gate  through  which  Napoleon 
both  entered  and  left  Moscow — a  curious  sight 
met  our  eyes.  A  detachment  of  gray-coated  sol- 
diers was  being  reviewed  by  the  officer  in  command, 
whereupon  a  conversation  ensued  in  Russian  be- 
tween the  commander  on  horseback  and  the  troops 
who  were  drawn  up  in  line  ;  which  conversation 
was  translated  to  us  by  our  guide  as  follows  : 

(Officer  in  command.)  "  Soldiers,  are  you 
well  ?" 

(Soldiers  giving  a  salute.)     "  Yes." 

(Officer  in  command.)  "  Soldiers,  are  you  ready 
to  suffer  ? " 

(Soldiers  giving  a  second  salute.)     "  Yes." 


THE  EXIT  FROM  RUSSIA    VIA    WARSAW.      195 

(Officer  in  command.)  "  Soldiers,  are  you 
pledged  to  defend  your  country  ?" 

(Soldiers  giving  a  third  salute.)     "  Yes." 

Hereupon  the  commanding  officer,  giving  in 
return  a  salute,  left  the  detachment  which  had,  in 
the  meantime,  grounded  its  arms,  and  went  over 
to  a  second  detachment  to  go  through  this  mili- 
tary catechism  with  them. 

.  Murray  says  of  the  Kremlin  that  "  Russian  ar- 
chaeologists are  unable  to  trace  the  name  to  any 
certain  source.  It  is  by  most  supposed  to  be  de- 
rived from  the  Russian  word  Kremen  or  si  lex,  but 
it  occurs  for  the  first  time  in  its  present  form  in 
the  year  1446. 

"  Originally  part  of  the  site  now  occupied  by  it 
was  enclosed  by  walls  of  oak.  Demetrius  of  the 
Don,  laid  the  foundation  of  stone  walls  in  1367, 
which  resisted  the  Tartars  on  several  occasions, 
and  were  only  seized  by  Toktamysh  through 
treachery.  In  1445  the  Kremlin  was  burned,  and 
the  walls  and  gates  partly  destroyed.  The  intro- 
duction of  artillery  rendered  the  old  walls,  although 
repaired,  no  longer  safe  against  invaders.  John 
III.  invited  Italians  to  build  new  fortifications  of 
stone,  which  were  accordingly  erected  between 
the  years  of  1485  and  1492,  and  subsequently  ex- 
tended and  strengthened.  These  walls  alone 
escaped  the  ravages  of  a  fire  that  destroyed  the 
whole  of  the  Kremlin  in  1737.  They  are  now 
7,280  feet  in  circumference  and  pierced  by  five 


196  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

gates,  the  principal  of  which,  the  Spaski  or  '  Re- 
deemer '  Gate,  nearest  the  Church  of  St.  Basil,  was 
built  by  Peter  Solarius,  a  Milanese,  in  1491.  Chris- 
topher Galloway,  an  English  clock-maker,  built 
the  tower  in  1626,  and  placed  a  clock  in  it  which 
was,  however,  later  replaced  by  another.  Hence 
the  style  of  the  tower  is  Gothic,  and  out  of  keep- 
ing with  the  Italian  battlements  :  it  is  the  Porta 
Sacra  and  Porta  Triumphalis  of  Moscow.  Over 
it  is  a  picture  of  the  Redeemer  of  Smolensk,  held 
in  high  veneration  by  the  Orthodox.  An  omis- 
sion to  uncover  the  head  while  passing  under  this 
gate,  was  anciently  punishable  by  fifty  compulsory 
prostrations.  The  traveller  should  not  fail  to  pay 
the  respect  to  old  traditions  here  exacted,  since 
the  Emperor  himself  conforms  to  the  custom. 
Criminals  executed  in  front  of  this  gate,  offered 
their  last  prayers  on  earth  to  the  image  of  the 
Redeemer  of  Smolensk,  which  also  witnessed  the 
execution  of  the  Streltsi  by  Peter  the  Great.  In 
his  reign  the  sectaries  who  refused  to  shave  their 
beards  paid  a  fine  in  passing  through  this  gate. 

"  The  next  gate  in  importance  alongside  the 
Spaski  Vorota  is  the  Nikolsky  or  Nicholas  Gate. 
The  miraculous  image  of  St.  Nicholas  the  Mojaisk, 
'the  dread  of  perjurers  and  the  comforter  of  suf- 
fering humanity,'  is  suspended  over  it.  Oaths 
were  anciently  administered  to  litigants  in  front 
of  this  venerated  image.  The  tower  was  originally 
built  in  1491  by  an  Italian  architect,  but  has,  like 


THE  EXIT  FROM  RUSSIA    VIA    WARSAW.      197 

the  other  buildings  of  the  Kremlin,  been  restored 
after  successive  disasters.  The  troops  of  Tokh- 
tamysh,  of  Sigismund  III.,  and  of  Napoleon  passed 
through  this  gate  within  four  centuries.  In  1408 
it  witnessed  the  siege  of  Moscow  by  Edigei  ;  in 
1551  the  invasion  by  the  Crim  Tartars;  and  in 
1611-12,  the  battles  between  the  Poles  and  the 
Russians  for  the  possession  of  Holy  Moscow.  It 
,was,  also,  partly  destroyed  by  orders  of  Napoleon, 
when  it  escaped  with  only  a  rent  which  split  the 
tower  in  the  middle  as  far  as  the  frame  of  the 
picture  but  not  even  the  glass  of  the  picture  ;  that 
of  the  lamp  suspended  before  it  was  said  to  have 
been  injured.  An  inscription  to  that  effect  was 
placed  over  the  gate  by  order  of  Alexander  I. 

"A  gate  near  the  western  extremity  of  the 
Kremlin  wall,  is  called  the  Troitski  or  Trinity 
Gate.  Its  tower  was  likewise  built  by  Christopher 
Galloway  in  the  early  part  of  the  seventeenth 
century  ;  restored  in  1759,  and  after  the  confla- 
gration in  1812.  The  French  both  entered  and 
left  the  Kremlin  by  this  gate.  Before  that  inva- 
sion the  buildings  in  the  vicinity  afforded  a  refuge 
for  vagrants,  thieves  and  murderers,  who  kept  the 
inhabitants  in  great  terror." 

After  a  farewell  sight  of  the  Church  of  the 
Assumption  where  a  great  service  was  being  held 
with  a  musical  refrain  which  sounded  like  a  cho- 
rus of  the  colored  Jubilee  singers,  and  after  an- 
other survey  of  the  Church  of  the  Annunciation, 


198  A  RU\\  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

where  the  Czar  is  always  crowned,  we  turned  from 
tombs  of  the  Romanoff  princes  with  the  tomb  of 
Ivan  the  Terrible  built  as  an  annex  just  outside 
the  church,  and  went  to  the  banker's  for  rouble 
notes  enough  to  carry  us  out  of  Russia. 

"Where  have  you  come  from  ?  "  asked  the  po- 
lite, man-of-the-world  young  man.  "  We  have 
come  from  Troitsa,"  was  the  reply. 

"  What  took  you  to  Troitsa  ?  "  he  inquired  once 
again. 

"We  went  to  see  Count  Tolstoi,"  was  the  answer. 

"Count  Tolstoi?"  inquired  the  clerk  in  an  in- 
credulous tone  of  voice,  "  well,  have  you  seen  the 
big  bell  in  the  Kremlin — the  Tsar  Kodokol  or 
King  of  Bells  ?  "  The  reply  was  in  the  affirmative, 

"Well,  then  if  you  have  seen  the  big  bell  of 
Moscow,  and  Count  Tolstoi,"  replied  the  clerk, 
"you  have  seen  the  two  objects  of  interest  ;  and 
the  same  thing  has  happened  to  each  of  them — 
they  are  both  cracked ."' 

Such  was  the  Russian  verdict  upon  our  pious 
pilgrimage  to  Troitsa  ;  and  there  the  conversation 
at  the  banking  office  ceased. 

The  happy  thought  generally  comes  too  late. 
When  seated  in  the  cars  an  hour  later  the  right 
answer  came  to  this  remark.  "  Yes,"  should  have 
been  the  reply,  "  but  in  such  a  God-forsaken, 
darkened  country  as  Russia  one  rejoices  in  the 
light  which  comes  in  even  through  a  crack." 

The   route  from  Moscow  to  Warsaw  is  almost 


THE  EXIT  FROM  RUSSIA    VIA    WARSAW.      199 

the  identical  route  taken  by  Napoleon  on  his  re- 
treat from  Russia.  The  cannon  which  surround 
the  gates  and  walls  of  the  Kremlin,  with  the  proud 
letter  N  stamped  upon  them,  are  the  only  remain- 
ing souvenirs  of  the  French  occupancy  of  this 
sacred  shrine  of  the  Russian  people. 

Borodino,  the  river  Beresina,  and  the  smoky 
town  of  Smolensk,  were  passed  on  the  journey, 
while  the  imagination  was  busy  in  conjuring  up 
the  facts  of  history  all  along  the  memorable  and 
historic  route. 

"  On  the  23d  of  June,  1812,  the  French  crossed 
the  Niemen  and  pushed  on  to  Wilna,  the  Russians 
carefully  retreating  and  leaving  Napoleon  to  pass 
that  river  on  the  28th,  and  enter  the  town  unop- 
posed. Here  the  French  emperor  remained 
eighteen  days,  and  then,  after  considerable  man- 
ceuvering,  marched  on  to  Vitepsk,  where  he  fully 
expected  to  bring  the  Russians,  under  Barclay  de 
Tolly,  to  action.  The  Russian  general,  however, 
declined  ;  and  Napoleon  instead  of  following  the 
advice  of  his  marshals  and  wintering  on  the  Dwina, 
crossed  the  Dnieper  and  marched  on  Smolensk. 
On  the  i6th  of  August  he  was  once  more  in  front 
of  the  Russian  grand  army  near  that  town  ;  but 
the  wary  and  intelligent  de  Tolly  had  occupied  it 
only  to  cover  the  flight  of  its  inhabitants,  and 
carry  off  or  destroy  its  magazines  ;  and  on  the 
following  morning  Napoleon,  to  his  great  mortifi- 
cation, learned  that  the  enemy  in  pursuance  of  his 


20O  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

Fabian  tactics,  was  again  off.  Smolensk  was  now 
taken  by  assault,  the  last  inhabitants  that  re- 
mained having  set  fire  to  it  before  they  left. 

"  Up  to  this  time  the  Russian  commander-in- 
chief  had  been  able  to  adhere  to  his  plan  of  draw- 
ing the  French  into  the  country  without  risking  a 
general  engagement  until  a  favorable  opportunity 
should  occur — tactics  which  were  not  liked  by  his 
army,  and  Alexander,  yielding  to  the  clamor,  ap- 
pointed Kutusoff  to  the  command. 

"  The  battle  of  Borodino,  sometimes  called  that 
of  the  Moskva,  fought  on  the  ist  of  September, 
was  the  result  of  this  change  of  leaders.  The 
combatants  amounted  on  either  side  to  about  120,- 
ooo,  and  the  killed  and  wounded  in  both  to  about 
80,000.  On  the  1 2th,  Bonaparte  again  moved  for- 
ward, his  troops  by  this  time  nearly  famished  and 
heartily  tired  of  the  war,  for  the  day  of  Borodino 
had  given  them  a  clear  idea  that  the  enemy  would 
only  yield  after  a  desperate  struggle.  On  Sunday, 
the  i3th,  the  Russian  army  marched  out  of  the 
old  capital,  with  silent  drums  and  colors  furled, 
by  the  Kolomna  Gate,  and  left  the  city  to  its  fate. 
In  the  afternoon  of  Monday,  the  advanced  guard  of 
the  French  army  caught  the  first  view  of  her 
golden  minarets  and  starry  domes,  and  the  Krem- 
lin burst  upon  their  sight. 

" '  All  this  is  yours,'  cried  Napoleon,  when  he 
first  gazed  upon  the  goal  of  his  ambition,  and  a 
shout  of  '  Moscow  !  Moscow  ! '  was  taken  up  by 


THE  EXIT  FROM  RUSSJA    VJA    WAKSAil.      2OI 

the  foremost  ranks  and  carried  to  the  rear  of  his 
army.  In  Moscow  they  bivouacked  the  same 
evening.  Ere  the  night  had  closed  in,  their  leader 
arrived  at  the  Smolensko  Gate  and  then  learnt,  to 
his  astonishment,  that  300,000,  inhabitants  had 
fled  and  that  the  only  Russians  who  remained  in 
the  city  were  the  convicts  who  had  been  liberated 
from  the  jails,  a  few  of  the  rabble,  and  those  who 
were  unable  to  leave  it.  On  Tuesday,  the  i5th 
of  September,  the  mortified  victor  entered  Mos- 
cow and  took  up  his  residence  in  the  Kremlin  ; 
but  here  his  stay  was  destined  to  be  short  indeed, 
for  on  the  morning  of  the  i6th  it  was  discovered 
that  a  fire,  which  had  at  first  given  but  little 
cause  for  alarm,  could  not  be  restrained — fanned 
by  the  wind  it  spread  rapidly,  and  consumed  the 
best  portion  of  the  city.  '  The  churches,'  says 
Labaume,'  though  covered  with  iron  and  lead, 
were  destroyed,  and  with  them  those  graceful 
steeples  which  we  had  seen  the  night  before  re- 
splendent in  the  setting  sun  ;  the  hospitals,  too, 
which  contained  more  than  20,000  wounded,  soon 
began  to  burn — a  harrowing  and  dreadful  spec- 
tacle— and  almost  all  these  poor  wretches  perished, 
a  few  who  still  survived  were  seen  crawling,  half- 
burnt,  amongst  the  smoking  ruins,  while  others 
were  groaning  under  heaps  of  dead  bodies,  en- 
deavoring in  vain  to  extricate  themselves.  The 
confusion  and  tumult  which  ensued  when  the 
work  of  pillage  began,  cannot  be  conceived. 


2O2  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

Soldiers,  sutlers,  galley-slaves  and  prostitutes 
were  seen  running  through  the  streets,  penetrat- 
ing into  the  deserted  palaces,  and  carrying  away 
everything  that  could  gratify  their  avarice.  Some 
clothed  themselves  in  rich  stuffs,  silks  and  costly 
furs,  others  dressed  themselves  in  women's  pe- 
lisses ;  and  even  the  galley-slaves  concealed  their 
rags  under  the  most  splendid  court-dresses  ;  the 
rest  crowded  to  the  cellars,  and,  forcing  open  the 
doors,  drank  the  wine  and  carried  off  an  immense 
booty.  This  horrible  pillage  was  not  confined  to 
the  deserted  houses  alone,  but  extended  to  the  few 
which  were  inhabited,  and  soon  the  eagerness  and 
wantonness  of  the  plunderers  caused  devastations 
which  almost  equalled  those  occasioned  by  the 
conflagration.'  '  Palaces  and  temples,'  writes 
Karamzin,  '  monuments  of  art  and  miracles  of 
luxury,  the  remains  of  past  ages  and  those  which 
had  been  the  creation  of  yesterday,  the  tombs  of 
ancestors  and  the  nursery  cradles  of  the  present 
generation,  were  all  indiscriminately  destroyed  ; 
nothing  was  left  of  Moscow  save  the  remembrance 
of  the  city,  and  the  deep  resolution  to  avenge  its 
fate.' 

"On  the  2oth,  Napoleon  returned  to  the  Krem- 
lin from  the  Palace  of  Petrofsky,  to  which  he  had 
retired,  and  soon  tried  to  negotiate  with  Kutusoff, 
who  replied  that  no  treaty  could  be  entered  into 
so  long  as  a  foreigner  remained  within  the  fron- 
tier. The  Emperor  then  requested  that  he  would 


THE  EXIT  FROM  RUSSIA   VIA   WARSAW.     203 

forward  a  letter  to  Alexander.  '  I  will  do  that,' 
said  the  Russian  general,  '  provided  the  word 
peace  is  not  in  the  letter.' 

"  To  a  third  proposition,  Kutusoff  replied  that 
it  was  not  the  time  to  treat  or  enter  into  an  armis- 
tice, as  the  Russians  were,  just  about  to  open  the 
campaign.  At  length,  on  the  igth  of  October, 
after  a  stay  of  thirty-four  days,  Napoleon  left 
Moscow  with  his  army,  consisting  of  120,000  men 
and  550  pieces  of  cannon,  a  vast  amount  of  plun- 
der, and  a  countless  host  of  camp-followers.  And 
now  the  picture  of  the  advance  was  to  be  re- 
versed. Murat  was  defeated  at  Malo-Yaroslavets 
on  the  24th,  and  an  unsuccessful  stand  was  made  at 
Viasma  on  the  3d  of  November.  On  the  6th,  a 
winter,  peculiarly  early  and  severe  even  for  Rus- 
sia, set  in.  The  thermometer  sank  eighteen  de- 
grees, the  wind  blew  furiously,  and  the  soldiers, 
vainly  struggling  with  the  eddying  snow,  which 
drove  against  them  with  the  violence  of  a  whirl- 
wind, could  no  longer  distinguish  their  road,  and 
falling  into  the  ditches  by  the  side,  there  found  a 
grave.  Others  crawled  on,  badly  clothed,  with 
nothing  to  eat  or  drink,  frost-bitten,  and  groaning 
with  pain.  Discipline  disappeared,  the  soldier  no 
longer  obeyed  his  officer  ;  disbanded,  the  troops 
spread  themselves  right  and  left  in  search  of  food, 
and  as  the  horses  fell,  fought  for  their  mangled 
carcasses,  and  devoured  them  raw  ;  many  re- 
mained by  the  dying  embers  of  the  bivouac  fires, 


2O4  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

and  as  these  expired,  an  insensibility  crept  over 
them,  which  soon  became  the  sleep  of  death.  On 
the  pth  of  November  Napoleon  reached  Smolensk, 
and  remained  till  the  i5th,  when  he  set  out  for 
Krasnoe.  From  this  time,  to  the  26th  and  27th, 
when  the  French  crossed  the  Beresina,  all  was 
utter  and  hopeless  confusion  ;  and  in  the  passage 
of  that  river,  the  wretched  remnant  of  their  once 
powerful  army  was  nearly  annihilated.  The  exact 
extent  of  their  loss  was  never  known,  but  a  Rus- 
sian account  states  that  36,000  bodies  were  found 
in  the  river  alone,  and  burnt  after  the  thaw.  On 
the  5th  of  December  Napoleon  deserted  the  sur- 
vivors ;  on  the  loth  he  reached  Warsaw,  and  on 
the  night  of  the  i8th,  his  capital  and  the  Tuil- 
eries.  The  army  that  had  so  well  and  enthusias- 
tically served  him,  was  disposed  of  as  follows  : 

Slain  in  fight 125,000 

Died  from  fatigue,  hunger,  and  the  sever- 
ity of  the  climate 132,000 

Prisoners 193,000 

450,000 

"  The  remains  of  the  grand  army  which  es- 
caped the  general  wreck  (independently  of  the  two 
auxiliary  armies  of  Austria  and  Prussia,  which 
knew  little  of  the  horrors  of  the  retreat)  was 
about  40,000  men,  of  whom  it  is  said  scarcely  10,- 
ooo  were  Frenchmen.  Thus  ended  the  greatest 
military  catastrophe  that  ever  befell  an  army  in 
either  ancient  or  modern  times. 


THE  EXIT  FROM  RUSSIA    VIA    WARS  A  W.     2O$ 

"  To  return  to  Napoleon.  Europe  was  now  ex- 
asperated and  combined  against  him,  and  though, 
in  the  following  spring,  he  gained  the  battles  of 
Lutzen  and  Bautzen,  and  on  the  27th  of  August, 
that  of  Dresden,  fortune  deserted  him  on  the  i8th 
of  October  of  the  same  year,  on  the  field  of  Leipsic. 
On  the  Rhine  the  allies  offered  him  peace  and  the 
Empire  of  France,  which  he  refused,  and  on  the 
3ith  of  March,  1814,  Alexander  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  marching  into  Paris." 

As  the  train  came  to  a  halt  at  the  station  at 
Smolensk,  and  was  delayed  for  awhile  in  the  mat- 
ter of  some  freight  or  baggage,  the  following  par- 
ticulars as  regards  this  city  on  the  Dnieper,  were 
taken  from  a  Russian  source  : 

"  When  the  grand  army  began  its  march  from 
the  Niemen,  in  1812,  the  Russian  troops  fell  back 
on  Smolensk.  Although  Barclay  de  Tolly  encour- 
aged the  inhabitants  and  assured  them  of  their 
safety,  he  nevertheless  caused  the  treasury  to  be 
removed,  and  all  documents  from  which  the  enemy 
might  derive  any  information  about  the  condition 
of  the  country.  The  two  Russian  armies  (one 
commanded  by  Barclay  de  Tolly,  the  other  by 
Bagration)  reached  Smolensk  on  the  226.  of  July 
(O.S.)  and  encamped  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Dnieper.  Three  days  later  they  retreated  further, 
leaving  only  one  regiment  in  the  town.  In  the 
meanwhile  the  French  advanced,  and,  after  the 
engagement  with  Neverofski  at  Krasnoi,  appeared 


2O6  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

on  the  3rd  of  August  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Smolensk.  Raefski,  sent  to  assist  Neverofski,  for- 
tified as  far  as  he  could,  the  suburbs  of  the  town, 
and  resolved  to  maintain  himself  in  it  until  the 
arrival  of  the  two  armies. 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  4th  (i6th)  of  August,  the 
fighting  commenced,  and  was  continued  the  next 
day  with  great  carnage,  as  the  armies  had  advanced 
the  day  before.  Many  assaults  were  repulsed,  the 
old  walls  withstood  a  fearful  cannonade,  and  a 

dreadful  fire    broke  out  in    the  town 

During  the  night  our  troops  evacuated  the  town, 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  6th  (i8th)  Napoleon 
entered  it,  but  found  nothing  but  smouldering 
ruins,  and  no  inhabitants  except  the  old,  the 
young,  and  the  sick,  many  of  whom  had  taken 
refuge  in  the  churches.  Napoleon  remained  four 
days  at  Smolensk,  and  established  a  Commission 
for  the  civil  administration  of  the  town,  with  Can- 
laincourt  as  Military  Governor.  The  Commission 
could,  however,  do  nothing;  arising  took  place 
all  over  the  country  ;  bands  of  partisans  were 
formed,  and  destroyed  foraging  parties,  and  even 
larger  bodies  of  the  enemy,  whenever  they  met 
them.  The  French  tried  to  overawe  the  people 
by  acts  of  severity,  and,  having  seized  the  leaders 
of  two  bands  of  partisans,  Engelhard  and  Shubin, 
shot  them,  at  Smolensk.  This  only  increased  the 
animosity  of  the  people,  and  when,  on  the  2Qth  of 
October  (O  .  S  .),  Napoleon  returned  to  Smolensk, 


THE  EXIT  FROM  RUSSIA   VIA   WAX  SAW.     2O/ 

he  found  nothing  for  the  support  of  the  remnants 
of  the  '  great  army.' 

"  The  further  retreat  of  Napoleon  was  protected 
at  Smolensk  by  Ney,  who  left  the  city  on  the  6th 
(i8th)  of  November,  after  blowing  up  eight  of  the 
towers  built  by  Godunof  ;  and  a  part  of  the  other 
fortifications.  The  Russians  who  had  remained 
in  the  town,  issued  out  of  their  places  of  refuge, 
and  began  to  destroy  with  frenzy  the  stragglers 
who  roamed  about  the  town,  throwing  them 
into  the  flames  of  the  burning  buildings,  and  into 
holes  in  the  ice. 

"  The  Twentieth  Regiment  of  Rifles  entered 
Smolensk  and  put  an  end  to  these  outrages.  The 
removal  and  destruction  of  the  bodies  of  men  and 
carcasses  of  horses,  were  continued  for  three 
months  afterwards  ;  for  many  of  the  streets  were 
literally  encumbered  with  the  dead. 

"  At  first,  the  bodies  were  burned,  piled  in  heaps 
half  a  verst  in  length  and  two  fathoms  high  ;  and 
when  the  supply  of  wood  failed,  they  were  buried 
in  trenches  and  covered  with  quicklime.  Epi- 
demics subsequently  broke  out  in  consequence. 

"  The  losses  incurred  by  Smolensk  were  at  that 
time  valued  at  6,592,404  r.  60  c. 

"The  mounds  which  cover  the  bodies  of  the  un- 
fortunate Frenchmen  will  be  seen  on  either  side 
of  the  old  post-road  from  Moscow. 

"  Although  the  demolition  of  the  historical  walls 
of  Smolensk  has  been  commenced  by  the  town 


208  A  RUN  THROUGH  RUSSIA. 

council,  there  is  reason  to  hope  that  this  act  of 
vandalism  will  go  no  further  ;  and  that  the  travel- 
ler passing  through  the  old  city  will  still  catch  a 
glimpse  of  its  ancient  defences." 

The  train  upon  which  we  were  travelling  in  this 
forty-four  hour  journey  out  of  Russia,  consisted 
of  nineteen  cars  and  two  engines,  with  heavy  well- 
ballasted  sleeping-cars. 

A  party  of.  opera  singers  belonging  to  the 
Royal  Opera  Company  of  Berlin,  were  upon  the 
train,  having  come  up  to  Moscow  from  Odessa 
and  the  Crimea  on  their  way  back  to  Berlin. 

There  were  some  Norwegian  and  Swedish  sing- 
ers in  the  party,  and  one  tall,  splendid  looking 
man  in  the  company  found  his  way  into  our  com- 
partment, being  attracted  thither  by  the  jolly 
voice  of  Lord  Byron,  who  was  singing  some  gentle 
snatches  from  "  Mikado." 

"  Pray  go  on,"  said  this  professional  basso.  "  I 
like  to  hear  other  people  sing — I,  too,  am  a 
singer.'1 

In  vain  Lord  Byron  protested  his  inability  to  sing 
before  a  professional  :  the  neighboring  female 
singers  were  sent  for  and  in  a  little  while  our 
compartment  was  crowded  with  an  admiring  and 
not  over-critical  audience,  the  ladies  smoking 
Russian  cigarettes  and  applauding  the  unknown 
English  words  of  Gilbert  and  Sullivan's  favorite 
opera. 

Through  Minsk  and  Ledletz  and  other  Polish 


THE  EXIT  FROM  RUSSIA    I'JA    WARSAW.     209 

towns  this  overland  train  slowly  but  effectively 
plodded  on  its  way,  along  a  dreary  country  unin- 
teresting in  the  extreme  in  its  physical  aspect, 
and  over-flooded  with  the  spring  freshets  of  April, 
as  its  history  had  been  flooded  with  the  blood  of 
the  thousands  slain  in  the  Russian  and  Polish 
wars  and  uprisings  in  the  past. 

A  curious  episode  on  this  exit  from  Russia  was 
found  in  the  fact  that  our  unknown  basso  friend 
proved  to  us,  then  and  there,  that  after  all,  this 
earth  of  ours  is  a  very  little  world. 

In  giving  us  his  impressions  of  the  Wagner 
school  of  opera,  in  a  very  modest  and  intelligent 
way,  he  mentioned  the  great  tenor,  Nieman,  who 
had  recently  rendered  the  Wagner  trilogy  in  New 
York.  One  of  the  party  having  mentioned  that 
he  himself  was  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House 
in  New  York,  on  the  night  when  Nieman  made 
his  debut  as  Siegfried,  added — "  But  after  all  that 
is  said  about  Nieman  in  "  Die  Walkure,"  I  pre- 
ferred the  "  Hunding  "  who  appeared  with  him  that 
evening ;  he  was  even  greater  than  Nieman." 
"  Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,  gentlemen  !  "  ex- 
claimed our  basso  friend,  making  a  profound  bow. 
"You  have  very  much  complimented  me — I  was 
"  Hunding  "  that  night." 

There  was  not  very  much  to  see  in  the  old 
Polish  city  of  Warsaw.  Thaddeus  of  that  place 
was  dead,  and  we  knew  of  no  other  character  half 
so  interesting.  I  believe  we  stayed  in  the  build- 


2IO  A  RUN  J^HROUGH  RUSSIA. 

ing — now  used  as  a  hotel — where  Napoleon  stop- 
ped when  on  his  flight  from  Russia.  But  we  did 
not  have  so  much  upon  our  minds  as  he  had,  and 
did  not  leave  our  baggage  and  things  on  the  way, 
as  his  custom  was. 

A  little  later  on,  we  stopped  at  the  same  hotel 
at  which,  on  a  former  occasion,  the  Grand  Duke 
Don  John,  of  Austria,  the  hero  of  the  naval  battle 
of  Lepanto,  as  described  in  Motley's  "  History  of 
the  Dutch  Republic,"  stayed  ;  but  this  far-off  fact 
of  history  made  no  appreciable  difference  in  our 
appetite  or  sleep  or  manner  of  life. 

A  miserable  Polish  commissionaire  tried  in  vain 
by  the  help  of  the  most  detestable  French,  to 
cheat  Mr.  Thackeray  out  of  two  five-rouble  notes 
— but  was  balked  of  his  nefarious  purpose  by  the 
bold  and  continuous  appeal  of  Lord  Byron  and 
the  other  member  of  the  party  to  the"  Chef  de 
Police,"  which  appeal  they  kept  murmuring  in 
soft  and  liquid  cadences — now  rising,  now  falling 
like  the  rhymthic  sequences  of  the  Greek  chorus — 
appealing  to  the  gods  for  vindication  !  The 
sleeping-car  conductor  on  this  same  Russian  train, 
a  Pole,  who  used  execrable  French,  tried  a  bluff 
game  upon  these  innocents,  forbidding  them  the 
use  of  their  apartments  on  some  technical  ground  ; 
hoping  thereby  to  extort  a  bribe  from  each  of 
these  strangers — whereupon  Lord  Byron  and  his 
friend  resorted  again  to  the  Greek  chorus  appeal 
to  the  Immortals  in  the  likeness  of  the  helmeted 
and  be-buttoned  police. 


7'ffE  EXIT  FROM  RUSSIA    VIA    WARS  A  /•/".     2  I  I 

These  two  short  but  effective  episodes  impressed 
upon  the  minds  of  the  travellers  the  fact  that, 
after  all,  there  was  a  good  deal  to  be  said  in  be- 
half of  the  partition  of  Poland,  and  that  if  "  Free- 
dom shrieked  when  Kosciusco  fell,"  it  might  be 
as  the  writer  once  heard  a  certain  minister  begin  a 
funeral  discourse — that  Freedom,  like  the  orator 
on  the  occasion,  "  was  not  intimately  acquainted 
with  the  deceased." 

At  five  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  April  151)1,  at 
Sasnowice,  on  the  frontier,  our  passports  were 
asked  for,  and  after  a  short  inspection  they  were 
returned  to  us  on  German  soil  again. 

We  could  have  embraced  the  German  custom- 
house officers,  so  glad  were  we  to  see  their  famil- 
iar uniforms  again  ;  and  at  Breslau,  at  ten  o'clock, 
we  breakfasted  on  the  old  German  roll  again,  and 
took  the  train  for  Dresden. 

The  electric  ding-dong  bell  of  the  well-known 
Dresden  Staclt  sounded  four  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon as  the  travellers  emerged  from  their  railway 
carriages  at  the  Dresden  depot. 

The  run  through  Russia  had  been  made,  it  was 
no  fool's  errand  after  all.  Each  member  of  the 
party  said  his  good-bye,  and  entering  his  carriage, 
drove  off. 

Russia  and  Tolstoi  had  been  seen  and  had  been 
conquered — and  "  every  man  went  unto  his  own 
house  !  " 


*«.? «,  ks>"  jp:  -.^«  v&i.4%§><a$.V 


^ 


